Fight Anyway
by Forget-Me-Not Writing
Summary: Fight no matter what holds you back. Riveting motto for Titans Academy, but Richard Grayson just wants a normal school year. However, with the enrollment of a mysterious girl, obligations of the Wayne Empire, friendships broken, identities betrayed, and threats made from enemies both in and out of the school do not promise this to be a normal sophomore year. High School AU.
1. Prologue

**Author's Note:** If you're still with me despite that horrid summary, God bless you. I don't know how to summarize this tale in the 384 characters provided and do it with proper grammar, so I guess whatever I had posted is what happened.

Thank you so much for clicking on this FanFiction of mine! You're a prize (not to be won as Princess Jasmine made a clear point, of course, but you're valuable and anyway). The author's note at the end will hopefully establish the foundation of how I want this story to take place, explain some of my choices, and be a guide to help you figure everything out. So, please, **don't skip** it! This WILL {hopefully} answer questions that might pop up as my story might differ from the "typical" one, at least that's my aspiration.

So, here is my story. It begins with a prologue (though never one as enchanting as the _Beauty and the Beast_'s narration or as magnanimous and spine-chilling introduction given by _Pacific Rim_), and will take you to Jump City (Wiki say Jump City is in California, but I don't know much about CA weather/school systems/etc. so I'm just going with what I know and making JC wherever this story finds you in) to a handful of teenagers. This is their journey of how they became one team, one friendship…

Annnnd that's supa' cheesy. Moving on with my life and from this author's note.

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**Prologue:**

The freedom summer offered most students differed in his case. Being the heir to a billion dollar company would restrict some liberties for sure; thus, he would be the first in line to enforce not telling others what to do, and encouraging them to be on their own. Although this was his theology, he didn't get to live it out. Hence why, when his adopted-like-father told his ward he could roam the harbor near the business meeting, he snapped up that chance of freedom.

Often, he was dragged to business meetings, conferences, dinners, and the like to boost the public image and enhance the relationships with domestic and foreign allies, this being the reason why they were currently visiting the Mediterranean area towards the ending of July. The people were nice, the food pristine, and the views of that sea were indescribable, but still, being the active teen he was, he didn't want to be trapped in stuffy boardrooms for hours on end; this is how he found himself meandering about the harbor of a minor port breathing in air that was sated with salt and the sea rather than figures and Wall Street musings.

He was lost in his thoughts, nearly serene, when suddenly a cry striking harshly against the muggy air caught his attention.

It sounded like a person screaming, but there were so many birds chattering, fishermen bickering, and boats creaking that it was hard to distinguish. He dismissed the idea. A few minutes later, however, as he was poking a rather large clam, the moan rang out once more.

_Alright, that's it_, he silently concluded as he stood from his crouching position and wiped away some sand splotches on his pants.

Ditching the clam, he cautiously but purposefully stalked his way to the general source of the scream –keeping to the shadows, though he knew not why. He deemed that the yells must have been coming from the rather large, steel ship that loomed over him like the skyscrapers of his home, Gotham City.

The port wasn't a major ocean one, nothing that filled headlines with its majesty or all the imports it gathered. It had big ships such as this one before him every now and then, but it was the style of the ship that caught him off guard the most, though. Ships represented its berth, but this water transport's craftsmanship he didn't recognize. It was likely from a smaller company or country since it seemed foreign but unfamiliar to him who has spend many hours staring at his father's business allies' vehicles, styles, and origins of countries.

Before he could try to decipher the faded name upon the hull, another yell emerged.

Yep, he was definitely at the source.

Just as he was about to leap on the ramp to get to the dock for further investigation, a pair of armor-clad guards emerged from the inside of the covered portion. As they began their patrol, they were talking on deck.

"The door will hold?" asked a guard, uncertainty obviously lacing his voice.

"It must," stated the second. He seemed determined and stern through his tone; ready to get a mission done. He continued, "The girl will be delivered to-"

The foghorn signaling the setting sail of the ship blasted through the air, prohibiting him from hearing whom the receiver of this cargo precisely was.

"And if this _thing_ gets loose?" inquired a third voice.

As the ship began to leave port, he had to strain to hear their conversation. Then, a roar thundered from the cargo hold and a harsh scraping of metal irked his ears that were still ringing from the foghorn.

"It's escaping!" reported the first guard.

"I'll have none of that," the guard who spoke second declared.

A scramble on deck commenced as a flash of dark indigo and silver leapt over the railing, gracefully landed on the retreating ramp, flew down the slope in startling speeds, and dashed into a maze of dock and shacks.

He was stunned at the acrobatics and precision.

Apparently, the men on the retreating ship were as well for it was a moment before they composed themselves and acted on the escape. But it was too late. The ramp that was in the process of re-extending itself to the ship was short with the metal sailing further and further away. He could hear a voice barking for a turnaround, but they all knew that the ship would have to get out of the port area to do a complete rotation. Meaning… the escapee had no pursuers for a few moments…

He knew he shouldn't; follow through with where his adventurous and heroic sides were leading him. He was expected back at the hotel soon, anyhow, since they were flying back to the States tonight. It was getting dark and he was just a kid, really.

Yet, despite all the little naysayers residing in his head, his curiosity kept fighting him. He crept onto the deck and began to retrace the sporadic path of the indigo being.

* * *

**Final Author's Note (in case you wanted more of me [I feel like Kuzco from The Emperor's New Groove or Timon and Pumbaa from The Lion King 1 ½, you know, with how they keep on interrupting the story with their commentary. Anyone? Anyone? {Bueller?} Okay.]):**

Point One I need to make: This is a modern-day, no powers AU story. I'm taking the storyline and plot of the episode "Go!" and making that the loose skeleton of my tale. The other bones are from various episodes, which you'll probably recognize as we journey along the story. Note that the chronology of my story will not always line up with the order of events in the chronological episodes. You may also notice some similar dialogue or situations in this as well, good! That's the point. The direct quotes I do not claim in any way and will do my best to recite the episode in my notes, but I may also just spew the dialogue as well. The Terra arc will also be a major player for forming this tale too, but not right away. In due time.

Second thing: Names. That is one of the biggest differences, and at the same time similarities, of the many, many TT FanFics I've read. Some of the character's names I changed just because I wanted to or thought it was too similar to another name. Many of the names are the DC Comic's aliases, too –or a close version of it. I've done an awful lot of reading and studying on the _Teen Titans Wiki_ pages to find original names, affiliations, personalities, etc. to try to keep them true to their Teen Titan show life and combine it with the comics, but dash in my own flare as well. So, hopefully, the effect is that you're able to identify who they are, but see my twist on their show version.

If a name is totally off from their superhero title and alias, I probably snagged part of their name and made it an anagram, or found a word in a different language that represented the character (For example: Wildebeest. I named him Connor Wilde. His last name is obvious. His first name is Connor, because, according to the Wikipedia website: "The wildebeest, also called gnus, are a genus of antelopes, _Connochaetes_", and the first part of that scientific name looked like Connor to me, so...).

If you are curious why I have a name the way I do or just want a list of the show character paired with their name in here, message me or let me know in your review, and I'll be more than happy to give you the whole list.

Lastly: If any of the events seem out of place with the show's timeline, or you have no idea who someone is, or if you're quite particular on your facts of DC Comics and just know I have some utterly wrong, hang in there with me. Hopefully, the fogginess will clear steadily as the chapters unfold. And I did do lots of research to try to get relationships/dynamics right, too, but I will admit that there are a few I blatantly changed so my ship would be like a steamboat to the actuality's row boat.

Just the prologue since this author's note is so massive. Chapter one will be posted soon! Please stick with it! It'll pick up, I promise!

_Some dialogue may be recognized from Episode "Go!"._


	2. Chapter 1 - Fresh Start

**Author's Note:** Thank you, thank you for enduring that first update, and continuing on this trek with me! I admit, that when I opened my email connected to this account, my heart stopped. I was overwhelmed with the amount of notifications from you all about favorites, follows, and even a review from _**DarkFire0407**_! Wow! Thank you! But by me seeing how many people are peeping in already, it has reinstated to me of how much bigger this fandom is, so I hope I do it justice.

Happy reading!

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He silently gazed at the gleaming academic structure from a generous distance away behind designer black shades covering his eyes as he cooly yet delicately leaned against his dark motorcycle. Sleek ebony hair styled to spikes –not punk point, but definite rebelliousness gelled in- sloped atop his head that was swimming with chaotic combinations of confident, excited, and nervous thoughts. He wore a simple, yet still pricey, dark maroon crew neck tee; denim jeans in a dark blue hue and under an expensive label; and, the staple in any motorcycle-wear, a leather jacket.

His crossed arms protected his front, but he was never worried about that, it was his back he feared –what he couldn't see. Too many people are willing to betray you in the shadows and blackmail you when you're as high up in the socialite ladder as he is.

Knowing he should get a move on, he kicked the peg stand up and flipped his leg over the leather seat of his beloved R-cycle. It was a custom made vehicle –a gift from _him_ to help make the transition better, or so he was told. Albert presented it to the teen; _he_ was otherwise engaged, as per usual.

The bike was as slick as a raven's feather with its color and cut. But what really was the moneybags was the way this thing could glide over pavement like a bird. Revving up the R-cycle's engine, causing a few glances from the early-morning risers nearby, and with a knowing smirk on the driver, he plunged on the gas as he happily saw the speedometer rise. Expertly, he zoomed down the streets of Jump City; it still quiet given the time of day it was.

Buildings flashed on his left and right; citizens gawked at how fast he was flying. The cool morning air instantly chilled his face with his speed, but it only added to the ambiance of coolness he emitted.

He zipped up to the small building on the edge of the water: the check-in booth.

After proving he was who he was –earning a few more glances as usual- the guardsman in the booth allowed entry. The raised gate lead to a descending tunnel that ran beneath the shallows of the bay that separated him from the island educational building he was staring at moments ago. He revved up the R-cycle again as he sped down the gentle downhill drive that lead to an underground parking garage.

It wasn't huge, considering only a few hundred kids attended this high school, but it sure wasn't shabby for a parking garage either. Yes, not many in numbers attend, but the check book numbers associated with the students who will park beside him explained the overall royalty and grandeur of Titans Academy: Boarding and Day School.

Of course, not everyone was loaded like he was. Scholarships and sponsorships aided well over half of the students in attendance, but this only furthered the gap of him attempting to be a normal teenager as his wallet's entry at the school was not only one of the newer ones but also the largest. Being an heir to a huge fortune and company would do that.

Locking his helmet to his cycle securely, he snatched his black backpack that had a small black button with a yellow R on it, and flung it over his leather jacket clad shoulders. Whipping out his cell phone –the latest model, of course- he sent a quick text to his one and only friend who will be attending Titans Academy, too.

As he closed out of the messaging app, he checked the time: 7:26 a.m. Perfect.

School started at 8:30 a.m., this gave him plenty of time to grab his schedule, compare it to his friend, and demand a change to the office ladies if their classes didn't match. If the workers didn't change it, that'd be no problem, he'd just flash a grin and offer some donations from the abundant bank account he was oh-so-fortunate to be heir to.

Just as he reached the end of the parking garage and neared the elevator that would take the vehicles owners above ground and onto the topside of the island off the city's coast by a few hundred feet, a familiar buzz rang through the air. He yanked out his phone from the pocket he just stashed it in to check who would call him so early.

The number belonged to the private phone of Bruce Wayne: billionaire, businessman, and really horrible at emotionally connecting with a certain teenaged boy despite the kind and generous act of taking him in as his ward and heir.

Tapping _accept_ on the gleaming screen, he held the phone up to his ear that still felt the pinch of his helmet from moments prior.

"Are you at the school?" Bruce demanded before a proper greeting was even exchanged over the phone.

"Yeah," the teen replied.

"Yes," corrected Bruce from the other end of the phone, still demanding model behavior despite he being in Gotham and his ward now residing miles and miles away in Jump City.

"Yes," obediently, he repeated.

"Good, now I need you to go to the main office on campus and get your schedule. Make sure that you got into all the classes you need."

"Yes, sir."

"And lock your belongings in your dorm's safe I had installed."

"Yes, sir," he responded with a roll of his eyes.

Initially, Bruce wanted him to commute from their Jump City condo to Titans Academy, but then Bruce didn't want the boy staying by himself since he had to stay in Gotham for business matters. The billionaire couldn't give up Albert to babysit the Boy Wonder so that nixed the off-campus idea. When suggesting he lived in the dorms on the Titans Academy campus, Bruce nearly had a heart attack. Nearly. Soon enough, though, he was won over when his clever ward presented the side of how good it'll look to the press that he stayed in the dorms like a normal teen. Another battle for him not to have his own room then ensued, but once more, the ward won when he said with him residing by himself it would make it look like the Waynes had something to hide or that he couldn't get along with his classmates.

Thus, Bruce allowed his heir to live on campus _and_ in dorms with a roommate. The catch: he'd use the safe for valuables and will never discuss business or personal aspects to the roommate(s). It was a tight leash, but the ward would take it.

Bruce continued his reminders. "And be careful with the other upper class children-"

"'For they could affect _your_ business, and hurt or help _my_ inheritance,'" he quoted to the businessman.

"I don't appreciate that tone," warned Bruce who shooed away the disapproving frown from Alfred who loyally stood near his boss in Gotham, but sympathized for the ward in Jump.

"I'll be fine; I've been in public before," snootily, the teen snapped. Not very appreciative to his benefactor, but nerves and Bruce's constant hovering made him both anxious and queasy.

"Yes, but not without me-" Bruce began to explain in his businessman tone.

"Gotta go, bye." He quickly tapped the "end" button on his touch screen, switched the volume to silent, and crammed the cellular back into his pocket –for good, he hoped.

He could practically visualize Bruce still holding the phone, an irritated expression gracing the flawless face of the Wayne Company for sure. Alfred wouldn't comment on the strained relationship between the man and his ward, but he might brave up a line in the kid's defense. Something similar to: "Don't worry about the young man, Master Wayne. He'll do just find, I'm sure."

With a ghost smile from the imaginary scenario and sending silent thanks to Alfred who undoubtedly was defending him and his rash behavior before Mr. Wayne, the teen sprang up the stairs that took him out of the underground parking garage and onto the buzzing main floor.

Already the school was bustling with teachers, students, administration workers, and gobs of tacky dorm supplies paired beside frazzled students who didn't come a few days prior for move-in day.

Bruce had Alfred take his stuff over a week prior; he himself has yet to see the actual room that will house him for the next nine months -excluding weekends and holidays, of course. Not many boarding students have home close by and can't venture back to familiarity once Friday hits. He, personally, will be dragged from one social event to the next once the season picks up, he presumed. It's how it always worked. But with August ending, summer are events dying down, and Bruce never scheduling any fall social stuff until late September, that gave the teen roughly five weeks of no obligations and no reason to return to Wayne Manor. Unless… he silently mused, an urge for some Albert advice or that ever so patient listening ear of the beloved butler needed to apply to the boy wonder.

After standing in line at the registration office, he received a packet with his name clearly plastered on it -he swore his name was printed bigger than any one else's- and ripped open to reveal the contents. A school map, a handbook and rules, his school I.D., and, at long last, his class schedule.

_1 - History – Mod_

_2 - Sophomore Science – Chang_

_3 - Mechanics – Ding _

_4 - Geometry – Mumbo_

_\- - Free Period/Lunch_

_5 - Art - Rouge_

_6 - Gym – Dayton/Farr_

_7 - English – Chu-Hui_

_Counselor – Larry _

_Dorm room 113_

Doesn't seem too bad. He's heard some interesting things about a few of his teachers; he knew Mod was British and crazy, Mr. Mumbo was a wanna-be magician and crazy, and Chang was just crazy. Mechanics would be exciting enough, and gym was always a great time for him to shine since athleticism naturally surged in his veins. The only major downers looked like geometry, art, and English, but he could deal with that.

Checking his phone again for the third time, and ignoring the text messages from the previous caller about his schedule, he strolled down the huge hallways. It was 7:51 a.m., allowing a few moments to wander before skidding to class in about a half hour. He didn't necessarily want to be early to class all the time, but with it being the first day, he did want to snag a good seat.

He had been inside the school before, but never as a student. Bruce had him homeschooled his freshman year for reasons he himself had yet to be informed on, and junior high was a combination of private tutors with Bruce and Gotham Public Schooling system with his parents. This was his first real shot at a normal education with tastes of freedom all in one.

The Wayne Company has been a generous donor to the educational system at Titans Academy for a number of years now. It had been an all-boy day school for about a decade, and opted for the boarding school route four years ago. Then, just last semester, but this being the first full school year, Titans Academy is running and operating as a full-time boarding and day school for both boys and girls.

Bruce and a number of other well-to-do businesspeople have been eyeing this academic establishment and the nearby H.I.V.E. Academy to send their high school aged children/heirs for years. Though, with the Wayne Company favoring Titans, many H.I.V.E. prospective students made the switch. This obvious support of one over the other from many wealthy and honored families only strengthened the friction between the two best high schools in this part of the nation. The Wayne Company didn't positively add to this discreet feud either; for the better part of the last two years, Bruce has been making obvious appearances at the Titans' functions to help boost its ratings and ensure a spot for his ward. To help with the positive publicity, Bruce brought said ward along for the boosting of the academy.

So, yes, this teen was quite familiar with the school as an outsider, but as a student, it was an entirely separate matter. The bright side, however, was that since the renovations for the shift over to boarding school finally were completed this summer, this school year marked a huge influx of new students. He wouldn't be alone, he wouldn't be alone.

_But, don't I want to be alone? To be on my own as my own person? _He shook his head of this sudden thought and unconsciously glanced around to see if anyone was staring as if they knew what he was contemplating –as elementary as that sounded.

Lately, though, he's been struggling with the idea of following the path made _for_ you verses paving the path made _by_ you. Is it right to throw away someone else's dream since it's not yours? Or is it even worse to not follow your dream so you can help someone else realize his or hers? He can't pinpoint the answers to any of these questions, but he has deducted that these thoughts started appearing over the summer; he knew not why.

He sighed as he allowed his black haired head to touch the wall; any passerby person would assume he was absolutely defeated, but he wasn't, honest.

He wasn't defeated, he mused, but overwhelmed for sure. Maybe Bruce had known that being in a school with physical students and teachers would unconsciously transport him back to sixth grade in the public school system under much different circumstances, and perhaps that is why the Wayne businessman kept his ward from the educational system.

_Or maybe now he's realizing that he can pawn me off at fancy schools and have me gone for nine months out of the year,_ bitterly, he thought unfairly to himself.

His hand had tightened without him truly realizing it and he knew he needed to let out his anger. Him dropping his hand from its clenched fist brought it against and thigh and reminded him of his phone. He took it out and saw that his friend replied, but was busy at the moment.

Well, he can personally explore Titans Academy solo then.

It was a massive school, with the structure of the overall building representing the letter T –for Titans, he assumed. The parking garage was obviously under the school, then the bottom of the T, or the main floor, had offices, classrooms, and even a school store. The second story had more classrooms along with a dedicated library sated with books, researching stations, computers, and dozens of tables.

Then, the top of the T. The guy dorms were on the right (when looking at the school from the city like he was earlier), rooms for girls were on the left, and the middle section was an intense recreational area where all the donor dollars are obvious. Complete with a massive living room type area with a kitchen always stocked of snacks for purchase, a huge television screen, cozy lounging, the works. There also were ping pong tables, foosball, video game systems, and classic board games. Additional rooms adjacent to the main space, such as a weight room, a small snack store, study rooms, and smaller versions of the congregational living room –for those who seek social opportunities, but on a minute grandeur scale- connected from a small hallway on either side of the main space.

Somewhere in the T there was a gymnasium, indoor tennis court, indoor/outdoor swimming pool, auditorium, and a cafeteria. Outside the T resided another tennis court, a basketball court, sand volleyball pit, along with practice fields for both the soccer and football teams, a generous track, and plenty of grassy spaces and rocky areas for leisure strolling or just nice spots to lay back and soak in the vitamin D.

All of this, the sport centers, recreational areas, residences, classrooms, and parking, were compiled on the island in the bay just off Jump City's shore. It was secluded, being both paradise and prison –depending on whom you asked.

Today, he decided, Titans Academy definitely felt like paradise.

Currently, he was walking on white tile with speckles of gray and black. Large windows flooded the hall with natural light and gave a great view to the bay or cityscape. Every now and then, the hall would veer off to an alcove or study nook. Study nooks had that thick, stiff gray carpet with beige walls and a few stuffed chairs or a small sofa for studying or some use these as game gathering areas as well. A few students claimed the study nook he was currently passing. He offered a wave to the girl with crystal-clear blue eyes and the hulking boy beside her. Both smiled in response, and she lifted her hand in a delicate wave back.

He soon found himself outside of a pair of doors. He thought that this might be the indoor tennis court. Either that, or the auditorium. Curious, he plucked open the wooden door and waltzed inside.

Sleek floors, colorful lines, basketball hoops down with some takers on warming up the wood, and bleachers sprinkled with less-than-enthusiastic audience members. Deciding to join the observers despite this not being what he initially thought it was, he strode up a few steps and plopped down at the top with his back reclining against the cool cinderblocks of the gym.

"Hi, Garfield Logan, reporting for duty, sir," said a voice. He pried open his eyes behind his shades, raised an eyebrow at the kid who was talking loudly to someone near him, and turned up his music plugged into his ear. "Oh, sorry, sir, didn't realize you were busy." Silence. "Sir?"

A few more beats and he realized that the kid was talking to _him_. "What?" he muttered, not bothering to open his eyes.

"Uh, sir, aren't you going to tell me what to do, sir?"

"Why would I do that?"

"That's what all the popular kids do, right? Sir?"

He again raised his eyebrows at that, but didn't comment –he didn't know how to address that question. He finally uttered to the small teen, "Stop calling me 'sir.'"

"But you're-"

He sprang forward and protruded his hand over the kid's mouth. "Don't say my name," he spat through gritted teeth.

The kid's forest green eyes widened and mumbled through the gag, "Oh, sorry, sir."

"I said stop calling me that."

"But you're… you know…" he continued despite the covering of his hand.

"Look, I'm not a superstar; I'm not Boy Wonder, or whatever they call me out there. Here I'm not all that, I'm not popular with the right to order people around. Here, I'm just me," he slowly peeled his hand off the guy's mouth as he continued. "And _just me_ wants to just relax before school begins." He snagged a glance at the digital clock on the gym's wall. 8:06 a.m.

"Wowzers, so you're going to be going here, to school, with me, here, here at T.A.?" the star struck kid was in such awe, it almost amused him.

"Looks like it…"

"Garfield Logan," the boy said seeing the opening left for an introduction. "I'm Garfield Logan."

"Garfield?" he repeated. "Sounds formal."

"Oh, well, only teachers or adults call me by my first name. Sometimes people shorten it by calling me Gar."

"Is that what your friends call you? Gar?" he asked.

"Well, I suppose… if I had some," Gar replied. "I'm an ex-Patrol Academy student, and haven't been in Jump long, so I haven't had the chance to meet a bunch of… friends…"

He could read between the lines and tell that Gar was an outcast. Perhaps it had something to do with Gar's sandy colored hair that possessed forest green streaks throughout the light brown. Oddly enough, the highlights of unnatural color seemed to naturally suit this squirrelly student; plus, the color matched Gar's bright green eyes as well.

"Did these friends at Patrol Academy ever be nice to you, or did they just order you around?" He asked as he reflected upon Gar's first question to him.

"Yeah, well, they have the power to, so why fight back if they're going to make your life miserable, you know?" Gar replied as if it was obvious. As if being bullied and pushed around was normal.

"You should always fight back against those who don't see your significance," he stated to Gar who didn't seem to fully process that line as he held up a skeptic eyebrow.

"Pssh," scoffed Gar. "You say that like it's easy. I see the way the tabloids label your and make you into their model, or how that business guy treats you slightly better than a puppet and drags you around like a suitcase.

Ouch.

"That kid did not enroll into Titans, he's staying out there with the puppets," Richard responded after he nursed the slight wound from the words thrown back at him from Gar.

"Makin' a fresh start, then?" Gar inquired, eagerness as if he wanted to join in too filled his tone.

"Sure," he chuckled softly at Gar's energy and bounciness. He then scanned Garfield up and down; the name Garfield did not suit this kid. He was small, but had a lot of spunk. His hair proved how off-the-wall he might be, but he looked honest and friendly. Although, Gar did talk faster than a bullet; he himself could hardly keep up. Wait a moment… Bullet…

"Ever shoot a BB gun?" he asked.

"Yeah! But I usually miss," answered Garfield with a sheepish smile.

He chuckled, then replied, "How about BB?"

"Huh?"

"A nickname like BB. Cause you're… spry like one. Looks crazy but not lethal, small but powerful," he explained.

"BB? Hmmm, I like that," said the kid with a smile.

A small relief washed over him at knowing Gar liked the nickname. Was the relief meaning he valued Gar's opinion, meaning they're acquaintances? Friends even? Yeah, he liked the sound of that.

"But what do I call _you_, then?" Gar asked as he stood up to make a move to first period. "If I'm to be BB or Gar, what about you?" He stuck out his hand in introduction with a friendly grin spreading over his face.

A smile tugged at his mouth's corners. He could grow to like this kid, this Garfield, this BB. He grabbed Gar's outstretched hand, outstretched friendship and fresh start, and replied, "Call me Richard."

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**Author's** **Note**: So, I know that this school seems fairly unrealistic -especially the shape structure and undersea tunnel leading to an underground parking garage, but hey, this is a fictional story and it's my story so I control the reality here. ;) Bear with me on the abnormal aspects that may arise in this tale, I ask of you.

_Noticeable quotes from the episode "Go!"_


	3. Chapter 2 - Just a Guy

**Author's Note:** Oh, my word. You are still with me. Thank you, thank you! I am flabbergasted at your response via favorites, follows, and now THREE reviews. You spoil me so. But, for real, opening my email and seeing notifications from you all is truly humbling and I thank you from the depths of my heart. In case you were wondering, I'm going to try to upload once a week, or at the very longest once every fortnight. Probably anywhere between Thrusday-Sunday, but I may surprise you all, too. ;)

_DarkFire0407_: Thank you so much for reviewing for a second time! Wow! It means a lot to me that you took the time to drop me a line of your thoughts and also encourage me as well. Thanks!

_Guest_: Way to make me feel all warm and fuzzy! Thank you for that sweet review! I too love modern day fics for some reason. And here's Chapter 2 for you as well! Thanks again! :)

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"Aw, dude!" Gar exclaimed happily. Richard glanced up from the school map to look at Gar who held both of their schedules, which told them that they had history, geometry, and gym class together. Richard had yet to make contact with the only other person who he knows since he has yet to locate the Fastest Boy Alive –the title is self-proclaimed, of course. Gar excitedly continued regardless if Richard was truly listening or not, "You have Mechanics!"

"Yeah, so?" Richard replied as he slipped the map into his pocket and entered the classroom marked 110.

The peculiar duo stood near the doorway silent for a moment, scanning the situation of available seats in the classroom.

"There?" Gar nearly whispered in question to Richard who nodded at the selected seats beside each other. Not too many seats were open even though there was close to seven minutes remaining before the bell rang for the school day to begin. Everyone had the first day jitters, he supposed.

Richard picked up their previous conversation once they sat down and dropped their backpacks beside their desks: "What about it, the mechanics class?"

"You have it third hour!"

"Yeah, so?" repeated Richard, not seeing the importance.

"That's when Vic has it too!" Gar declared as if this information was vital and Richard should understand precisely what it meant right away.

"Who?"

"What?! Come on. You know, Vic. Victor Stone, legendary football player. Almost went to H.I.V.E., but came here to Titans instead. He is great at sports and a prodigy with machine stuff," Gar rattled.

"So you know this guy, then?" asked Richard, the significance not connecting with him yet. Titans Academy has been scoring legends from H.I.V.E. Academy for years, why should this Vic be different?

"Oh, no," Gar discouraged the question. "I don't _know_ Vic. He's too high up in the social status to want to hang with me," meekly replied Gar. Richard frowned; it seemed that Gar's old school chums weren't so inconspicuous with their feelings on the popular ladder. "B-but, even though you're high up, the highest, you were nice and decided we could be friends, and, and-"

"Decided?" Richard interrupted.

"Well, don't you want to be?" a crestfallen Gar asked.

"I didn't decide you could be my friend," stated Richard. "No one decides if they're friends, no really, it just happens, I guess. I don't know. I feel like one person doesn't 'decide' if another person is allowed to be their friend or not. Even so, if anything, you started this… friendship by talking to me. But I didn't decide that I wasn't above you and chatted with you. No one decides who they're above and who they're not; that's society and I don't want society choosing my friends for me. Especially if it means excluding such a rocket guy like you from snubs that I supposedly come from," Richard said honestly, looking into Gar's hopeful eyes. "And yes, I do want to be friends with you."

"Well then let's not decide to friends and just be it then!" suggested Gar excitedly.

"Sure," he nodded with a slight chuckle.

Behind the duo, a girl paused reading her novel enough to eavesdrop the conversation between the wanna-be comedian, green blob, and socialite's pet, billionaire heir, boy wonder. She didn't believe them -the tabloids that labeled the Richard kid as a money moocher who'll only spend the Wayne fortune on cars and girls- but she never disregarded the entirety of their information either. There is, after all, almost always a thread of truth in every headline or reason for the exploits. Although now, she was beginning to doubt the clique she had him categorized inside of.

She turned off her own musings so she could then tune in to their conversation once more.

"So, why can't you talk to this Vic guy again?" pestered Richard.

"Well, he's just so cool, and a legend," mumbled Gar, eyes downcast. Did BB really assume that he was so small in meaning?

"And he's _just_ a guy. He's a guy that has talents, but we all have our own talents, too," replied Richard. He sighed at seeing how his point was not chipping into Gar's beliefs and shook his head. In doing so, he caught a sight at the classroom's door and commented to Gar, "And look who is just a guy in Mr. Mod's history class first hour."

He heard an _eep_ escape Gar.

A wall, or as humanly as identical as you could get to one, entered the classroom for first period history which it seemed he'd have with a quivering green haired boy, an heir to a fortune with covered eyes behind designer shades, and a quiet reader who was reorganizing her thoughts on the city's prince and pro-vegan jokester.

The entering student was large, but complied of hard-earned muscle. His gray t-shirt brought out the same color of his gray-blue eyes beneath thick black eyebrows. He didn't have hair on his head, displaying a smooth brown scalp. This only added years to his mature appearance.

Seeing only a few open spots left, the African American sauntered to the desk behind, none other than Gar.

"Hey, this seat taken?" he asked Gar who simply shook his head in response. Victor turned and asked the same question to the girl beside it (and behind Richard), to which she too shook her head.

"Alright, duckies," greeted the cherry-red haired British teacher as Vic folded himself into the seat.

"Just a guy," mouthed Richard to BB before turning towards the front.

The history teacher, Mr. Mod, began ranting off rules and expectations –including a firm chastisement directed towards Richard for being out of dress code with him wearing his sunglasses indoors- for the year. His syllabus was easily seven pages, front and back with just as much information to add verses on the paper. As he rambled on and on, he paced the front of the classroom with a determination that rivaled a military general's as he occasionally smacked his shiny cane on a slouching student's desk –Gar included.

This teacher was absolutely mad, Richard concluded. Although, he was a bit biased as he was still mildly pouting about having to take off his sunglasses. He hated displaying his eyes.

Mr. Mod then lead them into a "get-to-know your neighbor" exercise; the class collectively groaned at this particular announcement. Icebreakers are awkward and elementary.

"Seeing as this is a history lecture, I want some history out of you all," Mr. Mod babbled as he pointed his cane –ruby jeweled end to the class- at the students for emphasis. "I want you to stand up when it's your turn, introduce yourself, and tell your fellow classmates how you have contributed to history or how you _will_ contribute. Feel free to dig deep and get creative, I've noticed in years past that the lot of you have yet to use your years to make an impact on society. Must be an American thing." Mr. Mod didn't suppress the shudder at having to mention the citizens of the country he currently taught in.

A few students scoffed at Mr. Mod's poke at Americans, while the rest seemed to mumble aloud to each other about what they might say. Richard, on the other hand, instantly felt nerves jab at his stomach. What could he say that wouldn't make it seem like he was bragging about his wealth or flaunting how well off he is? And what even _has_ he accomplished or _will_? Being rich and an orphan? Somehow he presumed Mr. Mod wouldn't accept that as an answer.

He looked at the clock, 8:48 a.m. Thankfully, Mr. Mod had taken the first part of class to go over classroom rules and the syllabus, so hopefully the bell will ring for class to end before he had to say something. He just had to hang on until 9:15 a.m.

8:51 a.m. The first student began after the initial brainstorm session and examples Mr. Mod provided. Then the minutes and students flew by.

There was a girl who commented about making an impact like that of the ancient leaders in the Stone Age and how they allowed women to head the battles; a Japanese student spoke about his family's heritage in the Samurai Warriors and how he wanted to contribute to history in continuing that tradition; a musician uttered something about transforming the music scene in America since he was from Great Britain -naturally, he and Mr. Mod instantly hit it off.

_Looks like an easy grade for that kid,_ Richard grudgingly mused.

He recognized two of the speakers as the girl with astonishing bright pink hair and boy of long black hair he saw in a study nook earlier, but the rest were complete strangers.

9:07 a.m. A swimmer stood, and commented how he hoped to contribute to history by being the youngest person ever to compete in and win the Trident Competition. Gar, Richard noticed, scowled at this announcement. Richard glanced back at the speaking teen. He was tall and thin, yet strength loomed in his long limbs as well. His dark hair extended past his ears and just brushed his firm shoulders. His eyes, although small and nearly black, somehow still seemed friendly. The overall feel of the guy was nothing alarming, and actually kind of made you want to get to know him, Richard decided. He didn't understand why Gar immediately didn't approve of him.

"I'm Trenten Brooks," he said calmly. "Sorry I didn't introduce myself earlier." He offered a small smile with a gentle wave of his tan arm –earning a few audible sighs from some obvious fan girls. Instantly, Trenten blushed at the reaction of his introduction and ducked his head as he took his seat.

"Very well, Mr. Brooks," sternly, Mr. Mod stated. "Next."

9:09 a.m. It was Gar's turn. Despite his odd scorn directed towards Trenten and the obvious intimidation the little guy felt with his hero right behind him, Gar bounced up and began to rattle off the basics without a care in the world. "I'm Garfield Logan, but you can call me Gar or BB," confidently, he responded.

"And how might you contribute to history?" Mr. Mod inquired as he peered over the rim of his glasses with narrowed eyes. Gar replied without a quiver in his voice or any shadow of a doubt, "I may not be smart enough to do everything, but I'm dumb enough to try anything."

"Interesting… perspective, Mr. Logan," commented the instructor. "Next."

9:10 a.m. Not close enough. He heaved a sigh and stood up as instructed earlier.

"I'm Richard Grayson," he ignored the shift in the room as some people puzzled together what his name meant. "And to contribute to history, I will…" Will, will what? Will inherit millions and millions of dollars? Attend countless benefit balls? Be the next Bruce Wayne? Then, it hit him: he didn't _want_ to be the next Bruce Wayne. "I will strike out my own path and prove that what society tells you to be doesn't have to be you."

"Very thought provoking, Mr. Grayson," Mr. Mod applauded with his frown lightening. Graciously, Richard grabbed his seat as he let out a breath of relief.

Mr. Mod bellowed out, "Next."

"The name's Stone."

"Your entire name, duckie."

"Vic Stone," he crossed his huge brown arms over his broad chest and continued in a confidant, but fun tone, "and I'm gonna build the most technological, stream-lined, luxurious, yet functional, car known to man."

"Wow, we have a fellow who's as deep as a kiddie pool here," sarcastically, a girl stated. The snarky comment came from a girl whose full, crimson lips formed a knowing smirk. She had dark hazel eyes, brown skin, and bouncy black hair in a ponytail. Her long, slim legs had on black leather skinnies that matched her black vest over her bright yellow tank top. She already spoke her piece on what she'd contribute to history; something along the lines of never letting history repeat itself with women's rights, and also claiming that there's not a man alive who can tell her what to do.

And with her cockiness oozing off of her from her perfectly pristine outfit to her knowing grin, Richard believed it.

Vic snapped his head in the direction of the remark and glared at the sassy beaut.

"Say what?" Vic exclaimed in response to the girl's comment.

"Although your statement is correct, Miss Beecher, let us allow our classmates to fall on their own accord. We will not assist in the tumble," lectured Mr. Mod with a sketchy smile. His theory seemed a bit out of whack in Richard's opinion. "Next student."

Richard felt a slight shifting behind him. He turned to face the speaker: the quiet girl with dark hair that seemingly shined purple. Her dark blue sweater, gray skinny jeans tucked in black combat boots, and her large violet orbs highlighted her pale skin. Her overall vibe was so closed off and guarded she might as well be Fort Knox.

"My name is Ra-" She mumbled but her name was caught under the noise of a student scraping their chair across the floor as they got up to get a tissue.

"What? Your name's Rae?" Gar interrupted out loud but asked what the whole class was thinking. She cleared her throat and shot a tiny glare of annoyance his way. Gar shrank in his seat an inch.

"I'm Rachel Roth," she continued in a quiet voice. "And to contribute to history I'm going to read."

A few snickers escaped some students.

"Pray explain," requested Mr. Mod.

"Reading is a dying art, I'll help preserve it by enforcing it," Rachel stated in a monotone voice.

"Very well," Mr. Mod replied with raised red eyebrows. "All right, duckies, now that we all know how we have or are going to contribute to history, let's get to it. Time for an assignment!" Collectively, the class sighed, but before another word could be uttered, the bell rang, signaling the end of first period. "Next time," muttered Mr. Mod as the eager students escaped his mayhem of a history class.

* * *

"Did you really mean what you said back their in Mod's?"

The question belonged to a voice Richard didn't recognize. He whipped up his head from doodling on his syllabus. The science instructor, Professor Chang, was in an intense debate at the moment with the junior science teacher, Dr. Light. They were arguing about who knows what. Richard didn't care too much; he just liked the excuse to tune out an instructor for a moment.

"Huh?" Richard asked the questioner who grinned at Richard's confusion.

"We had history together, lameo," stated the closely cropped, strawberry-blonde haired teen.

"Oh, sorry, I guess I wasn't paying attention."

"Well, I was to you," he remarked with raised eyebrows. "Everybody was, Mister Richard Gr-"

"Please," Richard begged as he clamped a hand roughly over the other guy's mouth. That marked the second time in under two hours where he had done that. "No more than it needs to be said."

His face lightened with realization and Richard removed his clamp.

"No worries, Boy Wonder, I get you," the teen replied sincerely. "Which brings me to my first question: did you really mean what you said back there, about being more than what the tabloids will claim you're going to be?"

"Yeah, I did," answered Richard. "I did mean that."

"How are you going to do it? Escaping a legacy like _his_ is going to be pretty hard."

"I guess that's the fun in it," replied Richard with a playful smirk as he leaned back in his seat and folded his arms in front of his chest. The other boy grinned too.

"Count me in," he stated. Richard raised his eyebrows in question at the guy. "Ah, sorry. I'm so used to being introduced that I forget to _do_ the introducing when I'm not in Star City."

The kid was obviously upper class as Richard was well aware of what your income had to be when you arrived at social events that you never personally uttered your name aloud, people did that for you.

He offered a smiled as he continued, "The name's Roy Harper; ward and heir to Oliver Queen's fortune, and like you, desperate to be more than 'Queen's Kid' or the "Sidekick to the Oliver Company'. I'm ready to be my own person and earn my own tabloid headlines." Roy stuck out a hand in greeting which Richard immediately accepted.

"Pleasure to meet you and assist in any way I can," Richard said with a smile.

"All right, class, we've wasted enough time as it is, go grab a textbook and show me the ID number so I can record it…" Professor Chang began a long line of orders and demands on how to properly handle the textbook. When he was able to Segway his lecture to lab opportunities and chemistry, Richard tuned out as the professor broadcasted from the rickety podium.

"If either the Wayne Company or Queen fortune ever wants an athlete to sponsor, I know a guy," quietly remarked someone behind Roy. Richard and Roy turned to face the speaker. It was the same swimmer from history with Mod. Did the entire history class shift over to Professor Chang's sophomore science, Richard wondered, but soon disregarded the thought as he noticed that neither Gar nor Vic were there.

"I'll keep that in mind, fishy," Roy jested.

"I'll accept the aquatic references if it means sponsorships at the Trident Competition," Trenten replied with a small chuckle.

"What is that anyway?" Richard asked. Trenten opened his mouth to explain, but stopped before any words emerged as they noticed Professor Chang glaring at them to hush up so he could continue to rant about lab safety. Richard waited two beats of lecture before spinning his head back to face Trenten for a continuation of the quiet conversation.

"The Trident Competition is an aquatic triathlon, ultimately," Trenten quickly uttered.

"Yeah, like I know what that means," murmured Roy.

"Basically, it is three main events involving a combination of races, relays, speed, and teamwork, all in the water," Trenten reported in hushed tones.

"Why didn't you say that in the first place?" Roy griped with a small smile.

"Well, first place is what I want, so I'll explain it that way the next time," answered Trenton with a sly grin on his narrow face.

Richard was going to sneak in a final comment before the conversation closed, but Professor Chang finally had enough of their whispering and was blaring harsh glares in their direction. Before he could reprimand the three students, though, the bell rang, releasing them to make a break for the halls and then third period.

Richard was gathering his books and shoving them hastily into his dark backpack but careful to mind the small button pinned on the black fabric. Just as he finished stowing away his studies, a hand clamped on his left bicep; he glanced at the claw-like grip before tracing the hand to the source: a medium height, blue eyed girl with an obnoxious pink bow flowing over her straight, blonde hair.

"With your constant chattering just now, I wasn't able to catch all that Chang said in lecture, would you mind clueing me in on it?" she asked as she batted her eyes.

"Wasn't paying enough attention to know what to tell exactly," he answered honestly with a shrug of his shoulders to ease his bag on better.

"I'm sure it wasn't anything important anyway," she flung her hand as if dismissing the subject matter like a swarm of insects. "But when we get into more difficult materials and when homework is assigned… it's all so much easier to do with partners, wouldn't you think?"

"Do you mean so you can get out of the work?"

"No, _silly_, share the work," she giggled as she gently slapped his arm. He unconsciously took a retreating step from her touch.

"Right," he deadpanned.

"My name's Kitten, by the way," she said as if he was dying to know who she was. "And here's my number should you want a study buddy or someone to hang with or a dinner date, you know, whatever." She smirked as she handed him a piece of pink paper that he refused to move his arms for in retrieval of the note containing her name. Kitten huffed. "It's not a crime to accept a girl's phone number the first time you meet her, you know."

"Sorry, I don't want you to get the wrong idea," he stoically declined. "I'm not interested in a girlfriend at the moment."

"I never said anything about dating," Kitten commented, her arm lowering as her tone took on a pained vibe. "Maybe I'm just looking for… a friend." This statement caught him off guard and paused him in leaving her perimeter. "Maybe, I don't know, I just like knowing there'll be a familiar face in a class. Just because I went here last semester doesn't mean I know everyone."

That hit home. She was just as lost and confused as the rest of those attending this school. Yeah, Titans Academy has been around awhile, but not as a boarding school or with both boys and girls attending. This school year marked a first for Titans Academy; a first for a full year of duel gender boarding school, but also a shot at a second chance.

"Alright," he replied after he took a moment to mull over all of this briefly. "I can deal with being friends."

"Excellent," she beamed with a smile as she held up the piece of paper once more. "Do you think I could call you Richy-poo?"

He latched onto the rosy note and replied tersely, "Richard."

"Bro, do not tell me that you just befriended Kitten Moth," Roy requested once Richard departed from the science room and began his trek down to the mechanics area.

"I don't know, I didn't catch her last name," Richard weakly acknowledged without eye contact. He felt embarrassed at the association with that undoubtedly scheming blonde, but tried to shove that feeling down as Roy continued the discussion.

"How many girls with the name Kitten do you think attend here?" sarcastically, but logically, Roy inquired.

"Valid point," Richard honored the question. "But what of it?"

"Dude, I've been here for two semesters already," Roy pointed out as they continued down the hall to their next class, which they had together. "I met Kitten last year, and the chick's crazy."

"She seems harmless," he answered. "Attention-needy and a diva, yeah, but nothing lethal."

"We'll see," Roy muttered as they entered the mechanics front room.

* * *

"Sir?"

Silence answered the man imposing the question to his instructor. They, he and the man he was attempting to converse with, were alone in a dark room that boasted an entire wall of screens from hacked security cameras of various locations. The younger man tried asking the older one again, "Sir?"

"One of the most magnanimous of scientific phenomenon's is the black hole," the intimating man finally responded to the questioner, his hands still firmly clasped behind his back neither revealing nor telling his emotions since the apprentice is staring only at his back. "Astronomers have been studying its mysteries and power for years, and they still don't know where the victims of a black hole end up."

"There are theories and hypothesizes on where things taken in by a black hole go," the apprentice piped up, but the master continued on as if a word had never been uttered from the younger.

"Nothing can escape a black hole. Not planets, nor stars –both some of the largest matter known to man. Gravity cannot run out of a black hole's power, not even light can escape. The hole just takes everything in its grasp and destroys it all –an end to its reign unknown nor foreseeable."

The younger man didn't like where this monologue was heading; he could tell that the instructor was not informing the apprentice of this because of a mutual respect for the night sky.

"Grant," the man demanded after a few beats of overwhelming quiet between the two as the screens possessing video feed continued to roll. "It's time to initiate a new plan."

"Shall I hack into another bank's surveillance system?" suggested Grant.

"No," he commented in a quiet, almost thoughtful, tone. He silently gazed at the wall of computer screens as they continued to flash various feeds from surveillance systems throughout the area. Finally, his dark eyes zeroed in on a particular one. "But continue to record this particular building's feed," the man commanded. "Tap into more of its security system for a wider eye on it."

"But it's a sc-" Grant began to interject just to promptly stop when his master sent him a glare. Despite the shadows of the dim lighting and Grant having known this man for a long while, that look still ceased him with a freezing fear.

"I want information on this building. The layout, blueprints, security systems, the room count, the bell schedule, square footage, how many grains of sand lie upon the beloved island's shore," rattled off the man in a demanding way, tone darkening with every passing moment. "I want to know the teachers and staff, their salaries, how many are enrolled, their itineraries, peer groups, how free time is spent. But specifically this one; get me everything on this student." He merely inclined his head to a screen that held a fleeting image of a student at this school, but Grant understood nonetheless and made a mental note as his master continued. "I need to know everything there is to know about this school, this Titans Academy."

"Yes, sir," obediently, Grant answered.

The master allowed a flagitious grin crack through his hard expression as he ruthlessly commented, "For it shall be under my command, it'll become as helpless as light caught in a black hole, with _me_ being the latter."

* * *

**Author's Note:** Woo, Chapter Two! Stay tuned, please, for the next update where we continue to learn about the student's at Titans Academy. And don't worry, our favorite alien will be showing up shortly, be patient! :)

_Noticeable quotes from the episodes "Deep Six", "Crash", "Deception", "Wavelength", and the Richy-poo deriving from 'Robby-poo' from "Date with Destiny". _


	4. Chapter 3 - First Day Highs and Lows

**Author's Note:** Hey! I kept to my promise, kind of, of updating consistently! I think I like this chapter enough to finally post it. I know where I want to go with this story, it's just hard getting there, you know? We meet more characters here! Yay! The pacing of the story will pick up shortly, I think!

_DarkFire0407_: Wow! Thank you, thank you for being so faithful in your reviews; it means so much to me and encourages me so much!

Thank you to all the follows and favorites -you humble me so. Please drop me a line in the reviews, too -if you have time! :)

**Disclaimer**: I do not own Teen Titans, nor the jokes mentioned in this chapter. :)

* * *

She exited her second hour class in an opposite mood from which she entered.

When she had glided through the door, she instantly felt at home in the French classroom. But that's no surprise; after all, she is Rachel Roth whose talents include, but not limited to, having a knack for languages.

Already, Rachel knew German, Latin, and the basics of the French language. She was familiar with the culture of France since many of her favorite authors are European and draw from the country for inspiration, but that didn't stop her hunger for more knowledge. She actually debated on choosing a seat close to the front as opposed to her typical blend-in-the-back-row route; compromising on a desk in the middle of the masses but still near a window, she perched into the chair and dropped her messenger bag on the floor as she simultaneously slid a novel from the bag as it landed.

Two paragraphs from the cliffhanger chapter ending, Rachel was on the edge of her figurative seat with the ever-deepening plot, when the movie in her head from imagining the novel's storyline was brutally broken as her desk violently jostled.

"Opps! Sorry!" chirped a male voice that sounded vaguely familiar.

Rachel peered over her page to discover the owner of the desk mover and book interrupt-er.

"I'm Gar," he introduced with a toothy grin as he sat down in the chair beside hers. "I think we had Mod's history class together just now."  
He formed the sentence in an inquiring voice, as if to encourage her to confirm or deny this information. She didn't want to be rude and ignore him, but she didn't want to engage in the pointless first day chatter either.

"Yes," she tersely stated.

"And your name was Rae, right?" Gar asked in a jesting tone to clue her in on the fact that he did know that her name wasn't that.

She pressed her lips together to withhold the urge to scream her hatred of nicknames. "Rachel," she corrected in a monotone manner.

Briefly, his grin faltered at seeing she didn't take the bait in the tease. But Gar was quick on his feet and determined not to let silence fall between the two. "Hold up; I know of a great joke," he claimed with a snap of his fingers. "Where does Napoleon keep his armies?"

Rachel sighed. Maybe it was the promise of a good school year –her schedule was top notch, after all, with both her electives, French and British Literature, making their places in her school day. Or perhaps it was because replying would keep this guy's mouth shut faster; she obliged and decided to entertain the little green-highlighted guy. She huffed in monotone, "Where?"

Gar bit his lip to withhold a mound of laughter as he managed out, "In his _sleevies_!"

"Hmm," she answered with pursed lips with regret of enticing him by encouraging the joke. Jokes were never her thing.

Desperate for a laugh out of the guarded girl, Gar anxiously searched about his person to use for a joke when his forest-colored eyes landed upon the Rachel's messenger bag. It was a black –no, indigo in a shadowy hue. But in the bottom right corner held a black embroidered raven and the word _Nevermore_ stitched in dark gray near the beak.

"Okay, okay," Gar said with his hands flailing about as if to literally capture her attention before she slipped back to her novel. "What do you call the author of "The Raven" when he's depressed?"

Rachel's eyebrows rose in reply.

"Edgar Allen _Low_!" He blurted before a massive attack of chortles overtook his composure. Gar huddled over his desk, clutching his belly in joy as the laughter made his entire body quake.

Rachel simply pressed two fingers from each pale hand to her temples, tempting herself with the thought of transferring desks, but the bell rang and dismissed any movement on her part.

About sixty seconds into the introduction lecture by _Monsieur_ Le Blanc, Rachel regretted not rotating a spot. Gar kept on looking at her funny every few minutes, and would make ridiculous faces should she dare to even hint at turning her head in the general direction of him. After they received the syllabus, French textbook, and a list of basic vocabulary words to know by tomorrow, the teacher permitted quiet discussion among the peers for the final moments before the class ended. Instantly, Gar poked Rachel's shoulder when Le Blanc allowed the free time.

"What's your deal?" Gar asked after she jerked at the touch.

"Don't touch me," Rachel replied with narrowed eyes.

"Why didn't you laugh at my jokes?" he demanded, ignoring her attitude.

"Maybe because they weren't funny."

"Dude, you're wrong," Gar defended. "They were way funny."

The bell resounded throughout the French room ending second hour, cutting off any reply should Rachel have one on insisting upon Gar's un-funniness.

"Why didn't you laugh at my way funny jokes?" again Gar inquired with persistence. He placed his hand on her desk, blocking her exit with his lean frame.

"I have much better uses of my brain than using it in a childish way such as corny jokes," she reasoned as she pulled up her bag onto her shoulders.

"I don't care what you reason is, Rae…"

"Don't call me Rae," Rachel chastised as she stood from her desk.

"I'll get you to laugh at one of my jokes. I'll tell you something funny everyday until you laugh. I'll have you laughing even if it's the last thing I do," Gar declared as she walked out of the classroom, mood soured and greatly different from which when she entered.

* * *

Roy and Trenten were right behind Richard as they entered the garage-type like area that served as the mechanics classroom. There was a small front area with four tables seating four to each before a SmartBoard -complete and a projector. At the back of the classroom there was a door, which lead to the actual shop where tools, parts, and projects lay in wait for the mechanic students.

Anxiously, Richard glanced around at the few students that were already sitting down to see if he knew any of them. He of course walked in with Roy and Trenten who both were in his first two classes of history and science, respectively; the legendary Vic from history came in close behind the initial trio as well. A few other kids who Richard didn't recognize filed in and picked a random desk. He stood there trying to hide his nerves when a sudden intake of air resonated in his ear.

"Well, I'll be a turtle in peanut butter," exclaimed a student who tumbled in and saw who was in the class. An even larger grin than he already had on his face spread as he began to make revving noises with his next sentence. "It's R-R-R-Richaaaaard Graysoooooon," he hollered like a wrestling announcer with hands cupping his mouth in a makeshift megaphone.

Despite the proclamation his name, Richard couldn't suppress his smile at his friend.

"Hey, Wally," greeted Richard as he jostled his backpack to shift the straps to just one shoulder.

"Wassup, Ricardo?" Wally joked as he high-fived his pal as if they hadn't seen each other in years. In reality, it's been about three weeks since their last bro-time.

"Nothing much," Richard chuckled at the lame nickname Wally provided. "Just keeping on, you know."

"Don't I," he retorted with a broad smile. "I'm accustomed to the life of stardom," He dramatically had his hand gripping his forehead like a 1950s romantic movie star about to faint, "and it's just so hard to find some down time for normal teenage stuff like school." His cheerful complaint perfectly mimicked many of the ones Richard wallowed to Wally over the summer.

"Alright, alright," Richard rolled his eyes and shoved Wally's shoulder. "Whatever, I get it."

"Dude, you need to lighten up," Wally stated as he shoved Richard's shoulder in retaliation to the previous push.

"A bit," Richard replied reluctantly.

"Pssh! A bit?!" scoffed Wally as he feigned astonishment. "Anyway, Boy Wonder, are you gonna keep on being rude, or will you introduce me to the people you're placing in your life in vein attempt to replace me for not being there for you 24/7?"

Richard sighed. Yep, Wallace West was back in his life once again. Wally was fast on his jokes and wit, but even faster on his feet. The guy could run. But so could his mouth –a non-filtering one at that.

"Wally, this is Roy and Trenten, we all have history and science together," Richard introduced as he gestured the mentioned duo with a slight hand raise. "And Roy and Trenten, this is my long-time pal, Wally West."

"Fastest Boy Alive, thank you," Wally was quick to add with a smile. "Good to meet'cha!"

"Same," responded Roy verbally alongside a slight nod.

"Likewise," Trenten answered with his naturally easy-going air. "How do you two know each other?"

"We run in the same circles," Wally answered as he pretended to put on a hoity-toity manner.

"Wally's uncle is Barry Allen," Richard established.

"No way," breathed Trenten with wide eyes, knowing that there's only one Barry Allen and that man knew how to make some sweet athletic gear. "So you're in touch with some serious dough, then."

"Eh, not really," Wally shrugged. "Uncle Mike plans to give his company to another family member. Not me, no way. I'm not into that corporate life. No offense."

"None taken," said Roy.

"Yeah, get out while you can," Richard concurred as he tried to block out his impressing future of the Wayne Empire.

The insistent and blaringly annoying bell then rang, ending their conversation as they scrambled for seats. Too busy talking, Richard didn't notice that nearly all the chairs were spoken for save three at a table with another student who was digging in his bag, so Richard couldn't tell who it was. He and Wally snagged two of the free seats, while Roy and Trenten sat across from a girl with red tipped black hair and an almond-toned boy with dark green eyes.

Just as the four sat down, the teacher swaggered to the front. He was average height and stocky built. He wore a leather jacket despite it being a bit warm out still, a white shirt, and dark pants. He didn't dress to the teacher's code obviously, but he clearly didn't care that he was rebelling either.

"My name's Danny Ding," he introduced in a smooth, jazzy voice. "Call me either, but never mister. I'm a cool cat, not one of those stuffy instructors." He snapped his fingers and winked and then began passing out the syllabus that was mainly consisting of pictures of cars he's made.

"Is this guy forreal?" Richard heard someone mutter. He glanced right and noticed Victor beside him. The muscled kid wasn't speaking to anyone in particular, but Richard decided to pipe in anyway.

"I think he thinks he's the star of a 1962 radio show."

Victor snapped his head to face Richard –clearly not expecting a response. He processed what the Boy Wonder suggested and then promptly began a hearty chuckle. One that was loud and contagious. Richard joined in with the laugh that earned several questioning glances from nearby students. Ding stopped his promotion of his cars and eyed the chortling duo.

"Aw, not cool, man," he commented. "Since you two hit off so well, you're now partners." This snapped both Richard and Victor out of their giggle spurts. "Actually, your whole table is your group-" Suddenly, Ding was cut off by a new face jerking open the door and sauntering into the classroom.

"Sorry I'm late," the new student said without much remorse in his apology.

"Be on time, man," Ding commented. Then, he glanced at his roster. "You must be-"

"Xavier," he interrupted again. "Xavier Red."

This Xavier was tall, but not lanky or overwhelming either. His brown messy hair suggested skater, but his plain black tee, dark jeans, and classic Converse argued for a slacker stereotype. He had a lazy smile –neither one of pleasantry nor spite- and brown eyes had appeared to have a slight scarlet tint to the irises. The few girls in the class seemed to certainly approve of the latest addition to the setting.

Ding continued once Xavier sat opposite of Victor at Richard's table. "For the next couple of weeks, these are the groups you'll be in. Every so often, I change the seating arrangement, but these fellows at your table are who you're stuck with for the first while of this class..."

And the word that stuck out the most to Richard from the mechanics class was 'stuck'. That word followed him for the rest of the day; or at least it felt like it as he silently cursed math teachers who begin lessons on the first day in his next class. He kept busy enough throughout the period with a doodle battle against Gar. Gar won with drawing a stick figure of a sad man who was labeled "Edgar Allen… LOW". Richard cackled mercilessly at the lame, but thoroughly entertaining, joke.

Gar, immediately seeing Richard's reaction, jumped to his feet and exclaimed, "Thank you! See it _is_ funny!"

Mr. Mumbo glared at the two who shrank in their seats and suppressed their grins as they worked the numerical figures on the first day homework assignment.

Thankfully though, free period and lunchtime was a haven from textbooks, teachers, and the word syllabus for all the students. Those seeking relief from the hectic chaos of school quickly knew the time 11:40 am - 1:00 pm as the golden hour: a time for lunch, socialization, a study hall, a work out session, or a napping opportunity.

Richard seized it for none of the above.

He zipped upstairs to his dorm to take a peek since he has yet to see what his home for the next school year looks like. Each room is suite style: you walk into a small room that acted as the foyer. It's too small for a sitting room, but could probably hold a nightstand in a corner or something. Once through the door and into the foyer, the door to the left leads to the bathroom with the basics of a shower, sink, and toilet. Richard crinkled his nose; he knew room inspections were an actual thing at Titans Academy, as well as a rotational system for cleaning the bathroom.

The pair of doors directly across from the "front" door led to the two bedrooms. Both rooms have two bed, two desks, a large closet, and a chest of drawers. Most dorms have four students residing in each suite, but in Richard's case, his room is to himself. Yet, he does have a duo in the other room of the suite. He couldn't wait to personalize his space with his stuff, but maybe he was just glad for the chance to sleep in a place without the pressure of the Wayne name looming over him like a roof.

* * *

Richard had to literally drag himself to art for fifth period. Thankfully, Wally and Roy were both in that class, but the teacher Sifu Brushogun, believed in assigned seating for the first portion of the semester, and Wally and Roy were placed at a table different from his. Richard had a table with a friendly girl named Donna and a Japanese boy he recognized from history as Ryuku. Unfortunately, also perching at the table like a queen bee was Kitten; he avoided eye contact and killed time simultaneously by sketching dorm possible layouts.

Gym was next and interesting since it is a required class, but also only offered to the sophomores once a day; thus, all of his classmates in his grade sat bored but talkative in the bleachers of the gym as the PE instructor, Dayton Farr, passed out locks for their assigned gym lockers. Richard sat with Gar who babbled about his day and something about jokes and how that the joke he made in math was funny. Richard, personally, felt like he was missing something as it really seemed to bother Gar, but he didn't inquire.

Then, finally, final class period: English –also a drag. He had it with Vic and the girl who made sarcastic comments to Vic in history, but no one else too interesting. Admittedly, Richard breathed a sigh of relief when Kitten turned into a different class from him; three classes everyday with Kitten might be just as trying as the socialite season with Bruce. It'd be a toss up for sure.

But the English class and the first day ended, which is that matters truly.

Richard threw his textbooks into his bag and ran up the stairs to his room he dumped his bag into the foyer after unlocking the main door and began scouring about for his suitcases and belongings.

He was just tossing a few towels onto the rack in the bathroom when he heard an excited: "Dude, no way!"

"Gar?" Richard asked, peeping his head into the foyer. "Nice seeing you."

"I can't believe I forgot to ask you who your roommates were, but it seems like I won't have a hard time remembering!" Gar rejoiced as he held up his hand for a celebratory high five from his new suitemate.

"Looks like it," he replied as he returned the friendly gesture. "You're just in time to help me decide what poster to hang right here." Richard gestured to the space on the wall opposite of the bathroom. It was a blank wall begging for some breakage of the cinder block white.

As the two taped the paper to help gain an idea of where it should permanently go, a figure came to stand in the door which was left open by Gar unintentionally.

"Yo! Who's here messin' up my dorm?" demanded the guy.

"He started it," Gar pointed to Richard.

"Thanks," he deadpanned to his 'buddy.' Then he turned to the stranger. Actually, he wasn't a stranger, Richard recognized him. "Vic, right?"

"Victor Stone, resident of room 112," he said with an easygoing smile and protrusion of a large hand in greeting.

"Garfield Logan, pro-vegan and jokes," Gar jumped in with a large grin and hand out for a shake.

"Didn't you go by something else in history?" Vic asked with a scrunched face as he tried to place the people he met throughout the day with the proper names and classes he them with.

"Gar or BB," he answered.

"Well, alright," smiled Vic.

"I'm Richard Grayson, your suitemate, and apparently a dorm wrecker," Richard joked when Vic shifted to look at the other roomie after Gar.

"Nah, man, I'm just messin' with ya," Vic replied as he shoved Richard's shoulder in jest. "I like the idea of putting something on this wall, but what?" Vic didn't state that he wasn't a fan of the motorcycle poster on the wall, but his skeptic face gave away his impression of it.

"Well, why don't we share this one?" Gar piped up.

"Share it? How?" Richard inquired to the smallest.

"Four walls, three guys," he began. " We each get a wall, but them maybe dedicate this wall to something we all are interested in."

"What could a vegan comedian, socialite motorcyclist, and an athletic mechanic all have in common?" realistically, Vic asked with a raised eyebrow at Gar.

"I'm sure we'll figure something out," Gar answered as he gazed at the blank wall with thoughtfulness in his expression as he pondered what _could_ they all agree upon.

* * *

Wally practically skipped through his dorm door and blazed into his room. He shouted a hello to his suitemates, Trenten and Tyson, both of whom he met that morning when Richard was asking for a meet up before first period.

Trenten was a swimmer and a pretty cool guy. His only request was no seafood in his presence or else he threatened to be really loud when waking for 5 am swim practice.

Tyson was a little more heated with temper, he even admitted, but asked for his suitemates to help keep him in check especially when on the court. Tyson was a prodigy with basketball, thus, Wally automatically entitling him Hot Shot. The Moroccan athlete accepted the nickname with a smile before he turned and unpacked a photo frame of him and someone else and placing it on his desk.

Now, with the first day until his belt, Wally was ready to finish setting up his space before hitting the track while it was still light out. He stopped in his tracks when he saw someone else in his room.

"Roy? Roy Harper?" Wally inquired to the person squatting before the dresser as he loaded up his side of the furniture. The boy glanced up meeting Wally's cornflower orbs with light brown eyes.

"That's me," he answered with a friendly smirk. "You're… Rally, right?"

"Wally," he corrected his roommate with an easygoing grin. "Or Fastest Boy Alive, whichever is easier for you to remember."

"I'll keep that in mind," Roy replied. "I just finished unpacking and need to go grab food before I starve. We can do arrangements later, if that works," he suggested to the speedster.

"Fine by me," answered Wally. He needed time to himself anyhow.

As soon as Roy parted, Wally glanced at the bulging bags and crumbled boxes holding the belongings of his that he has yet to touch –his bedding, computer, and a few set of clothes, basically- and instantly lost motivation to unpack. He leapt easily onto the bed, folded his arms behind his head, and stared at the ceiling.

Automatically, he hit play on his phone for music to fill his thoughts in effort to get his mind on other things than school. Specifically: science, geometry, art, gym, and history. Those classes, those blessed classes, all had one thing in common, and Wally couldn't stop thinking about her, about Jinna Hex.

* * *

She dumped her pink designer backpack in the foyer of her dorm, and sauntered into her room that resembled the inside of a bubblegum factory. From the pink bedspread, to the light red curtains, to the abundance of fuzzy pink rugs and pillows, the rosy hue was evident in her taste. As was a certain someone.

"Richard Grayson," she muttered as she flopped on her bed and yanked over her magenta laptop. Quickly, she tapped out the appropriate letters to best spell this name as she searched him. Her suspicions were correct. The very Richard Grayson attending Titans Academy: Boarding and Day School, the guy in her history, art, and gym classes, was the very same Richard Grayson: ward and heir to the Wayne billion dollar empire.

True, she didn't have an abundance of friends, but Kitten Moth did have hoards of followers and minions. And perhaps –she drummed her perfectly manicured fingernails on top of her now closed laptop as she mulled over all the information she gathered throughout the day- just perhaps, it was time to extend this boy into her group of those close to her. It'd be quite beneficial for her social status to have him as a companion. Plus, Daddy was bound to want her to have something occupy her time so she wouldn't disturb him as he approached "breakthrough" in his work.

This was turning out to be a very interesting year, she mused to herself; a very interesting year indeed.

* * *

**Author's Note:** _Noticeable dialogue from "Go!"_

Who you met in this chapter (and the first few chappies):

Richard Grayson - Robin

Rachel Roth - Raven

Garfield "Gar" "BB" Logan - Beast Boy

Victor Stone - Cyborg

Karen Beecher - Bumblebee

Trenten Brooks - Aqualad

Roy Harper - Speedy

Wally West - Kid Flash

Jinna Hex - Jinx

Kitten Moth - Kitten Moth

Mr. Mod - Mad Mod

Mr. Le Blanc - Andre Le Blanc

Mr. Mumbo - The Amazing Mumbo

Sifu Brushogun - Brushogun (from the movie)


	5. Chapter 4 - Rhythmic Manner

Author's Note: Hihi! Thanks so much for surging forth and continuing with my FanFic! The pacing of this story is different than it has, but that's to help get a wide view on many of the characters. I think you'll be happy with the addition of some characters! Happy reading!

_J-Rod67:_ Thank you so much for reading and reviewing! I took your advice, and so the list of the characters who are introduced will be listed at the end of the chapter. I did this for Chapter 3 (the previous one) and this one! Thanks so much for your kind words! :)

_DarkFire0407: _Wow! You are so consistent in reviewing and it means so much to me, thanks! I think your request will be granted fairly soon! :)

_LibbieLies: _Thank you, thank you! Your review brings joy to me! :)

* * *

The semester carried on in a rhythmic manner, of sorts, as the days blended to weeks, and the weeks combined to form a whole month that of which school has been in session. As the early twenties of September rolled throughout Jump City, Titans Academy students found their niche and their routines as the times of classes, lunches, homework, projects, sports, extra curricular activities, and the occasional leisurely moments flooded their lives.

School was blossoming with activity as the fall surged steadily on with announcements for school clubs, proclamations for athlete events, and promotions for Homecoming in October plastering the walls. Add all of that with homework, and the need for a break was evident. Every now and then, Titans Academy had a random weekend with an early out Friday, or no school at all for teacher collaboration, or a weekend set aside for repairs that'd be made more efficiently without a hoard of students flooding the T structure. This weekend graced the Titans attendees with no school all of Friday, making Thursday the instant celebration as the students prepared for their Friday/Thursday and all that it encompassed.

* * *

The charming of a specific girl was cumbersome for Vic. It wasn't the issue of talking to her, but rather finding time to do so between homework, video game matches with the roommates, football practice, and working on the Cy-car. Other than the homework, he genuinely cared about the other activities and would prioritize them above going out of his way to chat it up with girls.

Lately, Vic caught himself getting frustrated when working on his beloved vehicle as it made him think of _another_ girl who belittled him for his devotion to a car. He'd mutter under his breath that he didn't care about _her_ opinion, but rather Sara Sims's thoughts.

Sara was a nice, smart, and pretty girl in his history and gym classes. She was friendly and would actually take gym class seriously unlike the vast majority of females in the sophomore class at T.A. But, unfortunately, Sara was dating some upper classman jerk, Atlas Champion Keith. No joke on that middle name either.

That relationship status temporarily fixed _that_ girl issue for Vic, but it didn't solve the other as the obnoxiously independent and confident and beautiful and bossy Karen Beecher kept appearing in his life. Not only was she in his history class, but they also had science, gym, _and_ English classes together the same hour. He could avoid her in gym easily enough with Richard and Gar in there as well, and English wasn't really a social class, but that still left history and science.

Here presented the problem, as Professor Chang was relentless with his quizzes and tests having provided already two quizzes and test within the first four weeks of school being in session. Gar, not being one for studying, never helped Vic out, and although Richard had the same subject only at a different time, his class was behind Vic's. This is how Vic and Karen grudgingly found a study buddy within each other. She wouldn't have been Vic's first choice, but she did know how to quiz a guy over the material thoroughly.

Professor Chang wanted to end the shortened week with a bang, meaning a hefty quiz that no one was nearly ready for; thus, leading to a Wednesday night cram session. With him in football until early evening everyday, his devotion to his vehicle, Karen captain to the cheer squad, and her dedication to Student Cabinet, it was hard for them to sit down for a bit to hit the books, but the two made it work.

Currently, Karen was perched on the wooden workbench in the shop class's garage as Vic frustratingly tried to reconnect the Cy-car's wiring for the LED panels he wanted to install, whilst simultaneously answering Karen's questions for studying.

"Who was the father of genetics?" Karen asked the question to Vic between her chomps on her minty gum. Vic replied with a growl at the wispy wires; she rolled her eyes. "C'mon, Stone, our test over genetics is _tomorrow_, and you still have to quiz me on Punnett Squares. How are we suppose to study if you're too caught up in your precious Vy-car?"

"It's Cy-car, Beecher," Vic spat, withholding his grimace at her demanding nature. He silently entertained the thought of failing the course verses study sessions with Karen.

"Oh, I see. You're too busy to answer important questions for school, but you have more than enough energy for correcting my terms of your vehicle," she accused as she placed the notebook beside her and crossed her legs.

"Gregor Mendel," he muttered.

"What?" Karen asked as she lazily raised her hazel eyes from her nails to Vic's ratty tennis shoes poking from the car.

"I said," he grunted, fidgeting clumsily with tiny wires in his large hands. "Gregor Mend-ah!" He sprang up and shook his hand as if bit. In reality, a tiny electric shock, like those from static electricity, took a snap at him during the wiring.

"Did you just shock yourself?"

Nothing got by Karen Beecher.

Vic clamped his mouth shut as he stood from the car and grabbed a water bottle to delay answering her. "Ha! You did, didn't you?"

He took his time chugging the water as he sat on the bench beside Karen.

"It was hardly a shock, more like a… spark. A tickle, really," he finally replied in a nonchalant manner, hoping she'd just let the subject drop like the idea of studying had.

"Mhmm," she smiled at his obvious irritation at himself. After a few beats of mildly awkward silence, Karen sprang from her perch and fluttered to the ground with a slight stretch of her arms. "Well, I need to go hit the kitchen for a snack, and then start on that history homework. You comin'?"

"Nah, I'll catch up with you later," he said, eyes fixated on his car. "Happy studying," he remarked dryly, thoughts obviously not on history or biology.

"You too, _Sparky_," chirped Karen with a grin before zipping through the shop door before Vic could respond to the new nickname.

As Karen's words resonated in Vic's mind, he leaned his baldhead back to graze the wall as he closed his gray hued eyes. "Failing science is looking like a real tempting option right now," he muttered to himself.

* * *

Richard kept busy with school, weights and workout for the pre-season of basketball and baseball, social time with his roommates, avoiding Kitten in class, and putting up with Bruce's broken promise of no events or appearances until fall break. But now that Richard knew Roy Harper, he enjoyed the events much more with Roy and Wally by his side.

Unintentionally, however, Roy brought out Richard's competitive side. Maybe it was because both males were precisely 6', or that they both were incredibly gifted with smooth complexions, athletic abilities, and stellar hairstyles. It could have something involving the fact that each was heir and ward to a very successful and high-end empire. Regardless of why, Richard and Roy found themselves betting against each other in odd and random competitions more often than not.

Nearly every afternoon once school lets out at 3:30, and sometimes during the golden hour/lunch break too, Roy hits the grassy space on campus to shoot arrows with his bow, a lesser-known talent of his. He wasn't sure how he found stringing an arrow upon a quiver and releasing that energy to pulverize the selected target so stress relieving and therapeutic, but he did.

Plus, it was one area where Oliver Queen left him alone. Oliver was a great mentor and father-figure, don't get Roy wrong, but the man did have big plans of having Roy inherit the business and to be responsible which didn't quite line up with Roy's personal plans for his life. Archery, however, Olive saw no hindrance of that hobby in the dream of Roy taking over Queen Cooperation, so he allowed it. Encouraged it, even. And so, Roy found himself often seeking relief, entertainment, or even a reality escape at the range with a bow and arrow.

Today during their free period/lunch break, Richard decided to tag along. It was Thursday, but like a Friday with no school being in session on the morrow, and it'd be fun to hang out with Roy outside of the building's walls.

The day was promising with clear skies and a bright sun, but Richard wasn't prepared for Roy's skill. Watching Roy hit bulls-eye after bulls-eye after target after target, naturally ticked Richard the Competitor the wrong way; thus, he insisted upon having a shoot out against Roy.

The duo threw themselves in it so fiercely, that when Wally bounded up with lemonade and stolen cookies from the cafeteria, both boys dropped their bows in surprise.

"Lighten up, you two," Wally stated with raised eyebrows.

Neither Richard nor Roy made a move to retrieve their bows for that would mean having to admit how engrossed into the competition with each other they got.

"Winning isn't everything," continued Wally with a light smile.

"It's just the only thing that matters," muttered Richard.

"Says the Fastest Boy Alive," Roy commented as he crossed his arms, not hearing Richard's remark.

"Hey, I said winning isn't everything, it's for sure something," cheekily, Wally replied with a smirk and wink.

Roy opened his mouth to reply, but changed the course of his thoughts when his light brown eyes caught hold of a figure leaving the school building and marching towards the three. "Uh oh," he commented. "Here comes trouble."

"Trouble?" Richard asked with scrunched eyebrows as he glanced up from his phone of a million messages Bruce sent, asking for his presence at a last minute function this weekend. He tried to suppress a groan as he was really looking forward to the long weekend of no concrete plans.

"Is that Jade Nguyen?" Wally asked as he squinted at the person that was quickly gaining distance to the boys.

"Yeah," exhaled Roy as he if was just caught by the cops. He raked a hand through his light hair, bringing the short strawberry-blond strands off of his forehead and into wild protrusions from his skull. "Yeah, that's Jade alright."

"What did you do?" Richard asked at seeing Roy's reaction to her approaching presence.

"Why do you assume I did something?" defensively, Roy retaliated.

"You're Roy Harper," stated Richard as if that explained everything.

"Roy Nathaniel Harper!" shouted the obviously irate female as she crossed the lawn to the proximity of the accused aforementioned.

"Dude, what did you _do_?" Wally asked in a hushed tone to Roy who in reply just shook his head.

"You told the tabloids that I'm your _girlfriend_?!" demanded Jade, which simultaneously answered Richard and Wally's questions about Roy's actions.

Wally made a "yeesh" noise and scampered from the immediate area to give some space for Roy and Jade. Richard brought his forehead to rest in his hand at the sheer embarrassment for either Jade's predicament or Roy's stupidity at whatever he was getting himself into –he couldn't decide which.

* * *

Jokes were more often made as opposed to settling to silence for Gar. This rang true especially as he continued to pester Rachel with his endless one-liners in desperate, yet determined, attempts to crack a smile on the reserved girl. If only his focus could be transferred to school, then the boy would be a proper genius.

This being stated, however, Gar did thrive in his last class period: animal science. It was more thorough than biology and less environmental than ecology. Mr. Soto, the teacher, himself couldn't quit peg what precise study is the focus of that class, but it made not too much of a difference to Gar. He just loved devoting forty-five minutes to mammals, amphibians, reptiles, and even bacteria.

Somehow, Gar was able to convince Mr. Soto to allow him access to the school's video projector where Gar showed animal-centered movies, where admissions were donations only, every Tuesday night. The money made went back to the department where the shocked, but impressed, chairmen discuss what to do with a couple extra bucks in the funds.

"What's the film going to be for this Tuesday, Gar?" asked a classmate as the final bell rang, dismissing the lot for the blessed weekend.

"Jurassic Park," replied Gar to girl with a broad grin.

"Isn't that a bit of a stretch from the reason why you started the movie thing?" inquired another classmate, but this person earned a scowl from Gar. It was Brooks. Trenten Brooks.

"I don't need your input on how to run my business," Gar sniped.

"Whoa, slow down," Trenten coolly responded with his hands up in surrender. "I meant no harm, Gar. Just trying to help."

"Well, you're not in charge of me or of my movie choices," grumbled Gar as he marched past the two.

"What's his deal?" Trenten asked the girl, Kole Crystals, beside him.

"No idea," she shrugged her thin shoulders as she replied in her sweet voice. She leaned over to grab her backpack and snuggly place it over her airy blouse of oversized and billowy sky hued sleeves. Her mid-thigh, royal blue shorts complimented her eyes impeccably, and her white converse paired nicely with the pale bodice of her blouse. She was petite in physicality, but mighty in heart and personality for sure.

Despite her bright spirit, she still had to tilt her pixie face up to face Trenten as she asked, "Any big plans for the long weekend?"

"Swim practice, sleep, swim practice, homework, swim practice," he replied with a smile as they walked out of the classroom.

"Wow, way to live dangerously," jested Kole with a light giggle.

"You know me," he replied. "Just an absolute dare-devil, wild child, and king of chaos."

"Oh, yeah, the absolute craziest," Kole teased as she gently knuckle-touched his arm in a friendly punch.

His tall frame went well with her short one even though nearly eight inches gapped from the top of his black hair to her golden blonde locks with festive pink undertones.

Kole's blues in her ensemble paired well next to Trenten's ocean blue tee, tan cargo shorts, and black flip-flops. He looked ready to hit the water and waves in a splash and she appeared fit for flying with fairies in a flash.

Their compatibility, although oblivious to the two in the pair, did not go unnoticed by all; the duo was also oblivious to an entirely different conversation down the hall.

"Could you move, bonehead? You're blocking my way," griped Kitten as she attempted to exit geometry so she could embrace the break thanks to the weekend.

"She said she'd get me after class," murmured the boy lurking in the geometry door.

"Huh?" Kitten whined. The aloofness in his expression and sad manner made her think he didn't even hear Kitten say anything in the first place. She was about to shove him, but then she followed the boy's dark brown-eyed gaze to the tall swimmer and the small gem-of-a-student: Trenten Brooks and Kole Crystals. They were laughing and gabbing the day away as they stood down the hall from where Kitten and the boy were now.

"She said she'd get me after class," unconsciously, he repeated in a defeated tone.

"Now they make an interesting couple," she commented out loud, mainly to see the reaction of the boy, whose crush on Kole was painfully obvious.

"I… I wouldn't say couple," he quietly protested, actually responding to Kitten's conversation, but gaze steadily still set on Kole.

"As of right now, they're not one," commented Kitten in a faux innocence of observance manner. "A couple, I mean. But in due time, I'm sure they'll be well on their way to a happily ever after."

She paused for the desire affect: sheer devastation cracking the large boy's exterior as his eyes glazed over, trapping himself in the idea of Kole and Trenten together as Kitten foretold.

"What was your name again?" she asked as she allowed him to drown in sorrow for a few beats.

"Clay Gnark," he replied, eyes downcast and staring intently at the tiled floor.

"I'm Kitten Moth, Clay, and it was a pleasure to meet you," she chimed as she held out her hand. Apparently Clay didn't realize to use his right hand as his large hand came up, but rather than to shake it, he gently hugged her hand with his.

"You know, Clay," she baited as she snaked past the large frame in the doorframe, "it doesn't have to be her and _him_ together."

* * *

The quaint break was pristine timing for the students. Many went home or to friend's homes that were close by. Vic victoriously finished his final touch ups on his car. Gar listened to comedy routines and played his handheld gaming system as he sprawled on the couch in Vic's garage since the Stones lived in Jump.

Rachel devoted her time off to her booklist, which seemed to be ever increasing. She also avoided going home since that situation was less than ideal. She too stayed at the Stones modest suburban home in their guest room, but would come out occasionally for a change of reading situation to devour her novel in the same vicinity of Vic and Gar.

Wally was drafted into working a few hours at his uncle's office, but he was able to get a discount on some sweet kicks. Roy avoided his current predicament with Jade by losing himself at the range with his second favorite bow.

Trenten followed through with his predications of his break consisting mainly of swimming and catching up, but he didn't expect a certain pink-highlighted girl to surprise him with fruit smoothies Saturday afternoon. The two ended up spending the rest of the day with each other as they walked about campus, discussing everything and nothing all at once.

Kitten went home, but she certainly kept busy plotting her initial scheme whilst adding in the new mix of Clay Gnark's crush on Kole and his desire for her to only be with him. She did love a good drama.

But as all weekends bound about, as do Mondays with their closing.

Just as Richard reached the end of the parking garage where the elevator perched, an engine roared down the tunnel he had just raced his R-cycle through. Allowing a small smile to grace his flawless features –or so the tabloids claim- he waited by the elevator for the car to make its grand entry. He wasn't disappointed.

Gleaming white, like when the moon shines during a full-moon, with light blue techno patterns gracing the sides in elegant lines, the Cy-car traveled over the oil-stained garage like a cloud that drifted low to kiss the ocean. Parking in its spot, the car's engine quieted as Vic pulled out the keys, slid them into his denim pocket, and yanked out a huge athletic bag and backpack.

"Nice entrance, Vic," commented Richard, arms firmly crossed in front of himself again.

"My baby does know how to get people to notice her," Vic said proudly. "I proved that know-it-all, bossy twig what's up, didn't I?"

"Oh, yes," Rachel deadpanned whilst slipping her messenger bag onto her lean shoulder. "The history books will be shaken as Karen Beecher is proven utterly wrong because Victor Stone built a car."

"Aww, lighten up, dude," Gar hollered as he continued picking up his debris scattered throughout the car. The boy really just needed to invest in a bag to keep track of all his books.

"You added the LED paneling like you wanted to," Richard commented back to the driver with a grin, leaning back on the cool concrete wall.

"Yeah, I did," Vic, beamed, pride evident on his brown face. He turned to face the only girl amidst the group of guys. "But, c'mon, Rachel, you gotta admit that you love my history-changing vehicle."

"It's pointless to love inanimate objects. Besides, the music was too loud for my liking," she stated in a monotone voice as she whipped out her book, "but the ride was smooth so I could read easily enough."

"Aw, Rae is just too prejudice against my machinery to admit that she loved it," joked Vic, slinging his muscled arm over the pale girl's shoulder, ruffling her short hair in the process of the contact.

"Don't call me Rae," Rachel commanded as she shrugged out of the brotherly hug. She didn't "do" touching, no matter how much the friendship meant.

"Hey, Rachel," Richard greeted with his cool smile. The quiet girl was a nice addition to the testosterone three; she brought humanity and sensibility into their group.

"Hi," she muttered back, her nose already snug between the covers of her latest novel. Her large violet eyes hungrily lapping up each printed word on the pages so much so, she didn't even bother to push the fallen dark violet locks of hair that slipped from behind her ear.

"What's holding up BB?" Richard inquired when he noticed that the youngest had yet to exit the Cy-car.

"Aw, the little grass stain is helping with her bags," Vic replied shrugging his athletic bag to the ground with a loud _thunk_.

"Her?" asked Richard in confusion. There wasn't any _hers_ in this group save Rachel, but she was already beside them.

"Didn't you get my text?" Vic asked over his shoulder as he popped open the spacious trunk to reveal several bags and suitcases of designer labels.

"You know I was swamped all weekend obliging to Bruce's every whim," Richard stated with a frown. Richard utterly despised having to attend social outings planned for his publication. He always felt like a tagalong to Bruce at those parties. "I've hardly had time to breath, let alone read my messages," Richard continued. He realized his rant neared whining and clamped his mouth shut before he went into full monologue mode.

"Don't bother reading it, I'll just tell ya," intervened Vic. He lugged out the largest suitcase case and placed it gently on the ground with ease. "There's a new girl moving in today and she needed help getting her stuff down here. Plus, she didn't have a ride, so I offered."

"Ah," Richard said, nodding his head in understanding. "So what's her-"

"Victor, thank you for the glorious ride to my education! It was most exhilarating," a melodious voice sounded from the other side of the car.

"Name," Richard exhaled in a quick breath as he finished his question.

"No problem, little lady," Vic answered. "Will you need help moving your stuff into your dorm?"

"Oh, that would be most wonderful if it will not be too much trouble to you, Victor," she said with a smile.

"Not a'tall," Vic replied.

How could Vic be talking so easily to this girl? Richard wondered. "Who is she?" he hastily whispered to Rachel. He had his suspicions, but he had to clarify that there was no conceivable way this was the same girl.

"I don't do introductions," was all she said, not even lifting her eyes from her book. He turned to ask her for himself, but she was already happily trotting beside Vic who raised an arm and clicked the lock button on his keys, making the Cy-car alert them all it was secured.

"Hey, BB," Richard called as he snagged the guy's shoulder to his bright shirt. In no way, did the purple tee compliment the baggy camouflage pants or light gray converse, but it was definitely Gar.

"What's crack-a-lacking, dude?" Gar easily replied with a smile to Richard.

"Who is that girl?" insisted Richard.

"Uh, Koh something, I think," answered Gar. "She talks fast and strange. I didn't quite catch it, but dude! You'll never guess what!"

"What?" Richard deadpanned.

"She laughs at my jokes!"

"You mean she doesn't get them and laughs out of pity," Rachel remarked as she walked by, book still high and near her face. "Let's go, we have to get started on this French report or else we'll never have it finished by midterms," Rachel demanded as she yanked Gar's collar and practically dragged him away from Richard.

"Aw, c'mon, Rae, can't we take a few more days of procrastination?" Gar suggested. Richard heard a slap, like someone's hand striking a cheek.

"Don't call me Rae."

Richard remained in the garage dumbfounded. The new girl resembled another girl so much so it almost had to be the same one. Although, who he was thinking of with her solemn face, dark clothing, and angry conversation were all vastly contradicting with this care-free, smiling, and bubbly girl who glided however she treed.

He shook his head to clear his thoughts and dashed up the stairs to grab his books from the dorm for first hour to get back into the swing of the school schedule, back into a rhythmic manner of sorts.

* * *

**Author's Note:**

_Noticeable quotes from "Winner Take All" _

Characters who you met/reminder of who they are: 

Richard - Robin

Rachel - Raven

Vic - Cyborg

Gar/BB - Beast Boy

Wally - Kid Flash

Roy - Speedy

Trenten - Aqualad

Kole Chrystals - Kole

Clay Gnark - Gnarrk

Mr. Soto - Soto

Jade Nguyen - Cheshire


	6. Chapter 5 - A Monday Down for the Books

**Author's Note:** Sorry this update was so far from the last! It's only been a fortnight-ish, though! Not bad compared to how frequent and consistent I updated "Hay Fever".

I changed the **rating to T** just to be safe since there's violence and some mean-ness that happens.

Thank you for continuing with "Fight Anyway"! :D And I split this chapter into two parts since it covers A LOT of ground and characters, so please let me know if that style is okay reading-wise for you all, or not. I don't want you to be confused, but I try to pace it around lots of the characters that we need to get to know before –oh, wait, I can't share that with you yet. In my head, as the director, I see it as a movie and you know how it snips to various scenes that are going on at the same time? I see it as that.

Please read and review if you can! Thanks to all the follows and favorites; you guys make my heart sore.

_Artemis Raven Courtney_ – Fab username, by the way. And I think you'll find out how he made that connection very soon! Thank you for your review! And thank you for letting me know about some un-clarity due to my end.

_Dark Fire0407_ – I am spoiled, spoiled, SPOILED by you and your constantly uplifting reviews, comments, and encouragements! Bless you, you sweet FanFic reader! And your hope of me adding in more characters is granted! I believe in this chap alone, you guys will meet 11 characters, plus revisit some older ones!

_LibbieLies _– You are a total sweetheart! Thank, thank you such a positive review! I'm a big fan of Jade, but I will admit that I don't know too much about her other than what Wiki says, so her backstory may not be entirely true to how it is in the Justice League. I hope that won't disappoint! And Jinx is a total boss. She's fab and will definitely be making bigger appearances at the Titans Academy school year surges on.

Speaking of moving onward, happy reading and have a great Easter Sunday! He is Risen!

_**DISCLAIMER:**_ I don't own _Teen Titans_, or the characters, unfortunately. There'd be, like, ten season if I did, though.

* * *

Roy sat at the edge of his dorm room bed and ran a hand slowly through his hair, contemplating the last three days which were not spend the way he had envisioned the long weekend. He can peg the chaos to he and Richard having a shoot out against one another during free period after lunch that Thursday afternoon. Wally had just snagged them some snacks when in entered Jade Nguyen with a bone to pick with Roy. Full of fierce determination and an equal measure of anger, Jade marched up to him, Richard, and Wally who all stood slightly frightened of the girl.

"Yeah, that's Jade alright," Roy exhaled, staring at his hands in a lost daze.

"What did you do?" Richard asked at seeing Roy's reaction to her approaching presence.

"Why do you assume I did something?" defensively, Roy retaliated.

"You're Roy Harper," stated Richard as if that explained everything.

"Roy Nathaniel Harper!" shouted the obviously irate female as she crossed the lawn to the proximity of the accused aforementioned.

"Dude, what did you _do_?" Wally asked in a hushed tone to Roy who in reply just a shake of his head.

"You told the tabloids that I'm your _girlfriend_?!" demanded Jade, which simultaneously answered Richard and Wally's questions about Roy's actions.

Richard and Wally then allowed them a bit of privacy, but obviously stayed within earshot.

Roy glanced up just in time to notice that the irate girl was about to trod upon his dropped weapon from a few moments ago. "Hey, hey, hey, watch where you're step-"

_Crack_!

"Stepping," lamely, he finished his warning. Jade moved her foot and realized that underneath her combat boots lay Roy's bow and arrow in two pieces.

"Serves you right for what you did, Roy Natha-"

"What's with the full-name, name calling?" Roy interrupted.

"What's with making up relationship statuses with me, huh?" Jade berated, ferocity coating her brown eyes. "Explain yourself."

"Alright, alright, I get it," he coaxed in an annoyed tone. "I was at an event for Oliver a few weeks ago and the reporters just kept hounding Richard and me for details on our romantic interests."

"So, you just, what? Fibbed and said the first girl who you thought you could score?" accusingly, Jade inquired with narrowed eyes.

"Sheesh, no, give me some credit," Roy blabbered as he turned a humiliating rosy hue that wasn't due to the Indian Summer warmth in the air. "I did it to protect you." It was out before he could stop himself.

"'Protect me'? _Protect me_? Do you think I'm some helpless princess who is waiting for a handsome knight to swing by and save her?"

"Ah, gah, this isn't going well," he breathed as he smacked his sweating forehead with his palm.

"I'll say," Jade sniped with a snuff and crossed arms.

"Look," Roy began, "somehow the press knew you attended this school…"

"They have their devious ways!" unwantedly, interjected Richard from his spot a dozen feet away. Roy glared at both he and Wally who responded by scampering a few feet further.

"They somehow knew you went to school here," repeated Roy as he refocused his vision on Jade. "And they were spicing up some rumor about you and Richard having chemistry together."

"As if," scoffed Jade as she bent down to retrieve a bow shrapnel to aimlessly fiddle with whilst she chastised her classmate. "And it's _biology_ that we have together, not chemistry."

"Oh?" Roy perked up at this statement.

"Get on with it, Arrow Boy," demanded she as she, hypothetically, teasingly pointed the piece of wood at him in effort to urge him to go on.

"Right," he continued, ignoring her snarky nickname for him and her holding the piece of bow at him like a weapon. "So the press were throwing question after question at Richard to see if he'd ask you out, or if you guys were already engaged –I know, I know. They can fabricate some wicked stuff. And I wanted to help him out, so I… cut in."

"By saying that you're dating me?" Jade asked, eyebrows rose at his explanation.

Briefly, he hesitated on continuing. He _could_ just leave the situation where it was, and clumsily climb out of this hole he dug himself into. But he made the mistake of admiring how the sun blared in her eyes, making them a shade lighter and Jade not seem as threatening. He was a fool to think that seeing her with her windblown hair which scattered statically about her head would be any less attractive than her typical bun thing she usually does –not that he paid attention, that is. Roy reached up and scratched the back of his neck as he responded with: "By saying that he'd have to go over my dead body for him to get to you…"

This was not the answer Jade was expecting. Her frown faltered, and in response she could only manage out uttering a humbled, "Oh."

"Yeah," Roy heaved in a tired exhale in reply. He dropped his hand from his neck and let his long limbs dangle beside his red tee that held the infamous "s" symbol on the breast pocket from his favorite archery brand. She allowed her arms to detangle from crossing in front of her chest and grip the broken arrow piece she didn't seem to remember she was holding.

The two stood there, only a few feet separating them, but both so lost in their own thoughts, that they might as well be on different planets. "It could work, you know," Roy commented, refusing to drown in the awkwardness engulfing them.

Jade glanced up from her gaze at the grass, confused and asked, "Us?"

"A fake us," he corrected. "I'm connected to big money. By the press and people associating you with me, they'll pine after you. They'll want you."

"Want me for admission into Justice University?" she murmured in wonder, unaware that she just blurted her dreams to Roy Harper.

"Quite possibly," he smirked as he leaned to reply in her ear.

She swatted him away and glanced away to hide her rosy cheeks. She will not give Roy the satisfaction that he can make her blush, not matter how platonic he wanted their dynamic to be.

He slipped his smirk into a gentle smile and continued. "I know of some _situations_ that would prohibit you from entering that school, or anywhere decent really… without a powerful name supporting you," Roy added, but avoided eye contact. He wasn't planning on telling her that he knew. It just… came out.

Jade visibly paled, had Roy brought his light hazel eyes up to her face from the grass. "The press will have a field day with _that_," she finally admitted.

"They can't sell a story if they don't have the scoop," Roy stated, braving a glance at her face. She wasn't scowling anymore, which only weakened his resolve at making this deal as sweet for him as possible. "I'm good at covering my trail."

"And my past?" she quickly scanned the area to make sure students, especially Richard and Wally, were keeping their distance. "This… situation, you can keep it under wraps?" hope was evident in Jade's inquiring voice. She truly did want to move on from that time and embrace what the future could hold for a girl with ambition like hers.

"I have so far, haven't I?" he answered with a wink.

"What's in it for you, though?" Jade asked as her long limbs found their way back into her signature stance of weaving across her jade-green leather jacket, black tank, and denim skinny jeans. "I don't see you as the type to go digging through schoolmate's pasts just to offer them a deal so they get a shot at a good future without any benefits from your end. What do you get out of this, Roy Nathaniel Harper?"

"I get you on my arm," he replied slyly as he picked up the undamaged second bow that Richard was using, and spun it between his three fingers smoothly.

"Ha ha," drily, Jade retorted. "For real." Gently, she shoved his shoulder with her statement to help emphasize her point. He grinned and reached into the bundle of unused arrows from the sheath.

"If I have a girl," he held a lone arrow and stared at it as he replied, "then the press is pretty much happy. I'm free to not have my life meddled with as much," he answered honestly and stringed the arrow onto the bow.

"I feel like being in a relationship would have the opposite affect," she stated logically.

"Right, if you were famous." Roy glanced from locking in on the target and took in her scowl. "Hey, sorry! It's the truth. Since you're regular, the press cares, but it's only half as juicy compared to a celebrity power couple or something."

"So, let me get this straight," she sliced her hand through the air as if clearing the table. "We're going to be a pretend couple so you won't have the press to deal with and I will get my past covered along with a letter or recommendation from Oliver Queen to Justice University."

"I don't remember that last part being mentioned," Roy said as he pulled back the arrow with ease.

"If I'm going to give up part of my high school career for you, Roy Harper, then I'm going to get something solid out of it," Jade commandeered. "I've been managing this long without you, I can do so for my remaining days in this city as well."

"You won't have to, Jade," he sincerely stated, once again looking away from the target to stare directly into her eyes. Quickly, before he could lose himself, he ripped away his gaze, and zeroed in on the center yellow of the multi-colored circles twenty-five yards from his position.

"So, we have a deal, then?" she asked, leaning on her tiptoes as if she were an anxious child waiting for a treat.

"Deal," he stated as he released the arrow and hit the bulls-eye.

Her last six words and Roy's reply of one kept repeating themselves in his head. Almost to the point of mocking him at his stupidity of letting someone in on his life with Oliver, let alone a girl classmate who he'll have to deal with everyday during the school year for the next three years.

Roy slumped even more so on his dorm bed, not wanting it to be Monday morning already. He dropped his head in his hands, putting off the school day for as long as possible, hoping a fever would take him ill, a traffic jam for Mod would detain the teacher, a meteorite to strike the school, _anything_ that would stop him from having to face Jade in history at 8:30 a.m. sharp.

* * *

Rachel pursed her lips as Vic and Gar dropped off the load of her new roommate's things. She had cleverly been able to avoid having a roommate, only two suitemates, thus far into the school year. Apparently things were changing. And not only was her roommate a girl of her complete opposite, but it was that bubbly, bright, and talkative girl Vic gave a ride to that morning.

Their new dorm dynamic would be interesting for sure. It was already peppy with Karen Beecher and Sara Sims, both cheerleaders, residing as suitemates to Rachel. They didn't comment on the amount of purple, navy blue, black, and gray used in her room, and she didn't give her opinion on Karen's yellow fad or on Sara's obnoxious motivational posters. This new girl would throw off that unspoken, but mutual respect, about suitemates interacting more than a greeting or a question about homework.

She sighed and dropped her weekend duffle on her bed, mentally planning to come up later to unpack. She smoothed the few wrinkles that happened with the bag on her black puffy comforter. A neat freak didn't necessarily quite describe Rachel, but she definitely appreciated order and control.

Grabbing her books for her morning classes: history, French, biology, and British Literature, she couldn't help but allow a smooth smile to grace her pale face. The thought of a certain someone in her morning schedule made her nearly giddy, but she dismissed the thought as she slung her bag over her navy blue, quarter-length sleeved tunic that spun about her should she move faster than her typical pace. She paired the long blouse with white skinny jeans and black boots that hit her knees.

The look was missing something, though. She snagged a festive belt that had ruby-looking half circles inside the gold loops that made up the belt. Her look was trendy, she decided, which almost made her change it since she didn't want people to assume she to be a conformist, but knew that it was pointless to consider so much of how other's think of your own look. Thus, she left her dorm on a moderately happy note.

* * *

"I don't know a better way to kick things off on this beautiful-as-you-can-get-in-America Monday morning after a long weekend than by telling you about your project," chimed Mr. Mod in his own mad way. Collectively, the class groaned at the news. "Now, now, duckies, no fret. It's not due until midterms. However, it's a doozy, so I suggest to get on it now." Mod sent a glare Gar's way who in return snapped and pointed his fingers back with a wink at the stuffy instructor.

"This project will be a group effort and I expect everyone in the group to contribute to the assignment. And to prevent horrid choices, which you Americans tend to make so often due to your inability to stick with your origins, I'll be assigning the groups of five." A louder groan grumbled throughout the darkening classroom. "I have posted the groups here." Mr. Mod gestured to a piece of paper with a list of names on it he had taped to the whiteboard. Immediately, the students hustled out of their seats and jammed themselves to examine the paper.

_Group 1 - Karen Beecher, Trenten Brooks, Roy Harper, Jade Nguyen, Connor Wilde_

_ Group 2 - Jeremy Frank, Leonid Kovar, Thomas Rocket, Gan Storm, Kilo Watt,_

_ Group 3 - Kole Crystals, Clay Gnark, Kitten Moth, Sara Sims, Donna Troy_

_ Group 4 - Adonis Aarons, Amber McKenney, Nya Miko, Ryuku Nguyen, Billy Numerous_

_Group 5 - Richard Grayson, Garfield Logan, Rachel Roth, Victor Stone, Kori Anders_

"Look at that, day one and someone already ships us," Roy commentated to Jade at seeing that they were placed in a group together. His joke hopefully hid his inner joy at seeing the pairing, but it'd be detrimental to their dynamic should she know that.

"Get over yourself," she smiled with another shove to his arm. This reaction reassured him that she seemed fine with their set up, he allowed a grin to spread over his smooth complexion. He didn't even know why he had dreaded facing Jade now; she was totally cool with them being a couple and wouldn't abuse it, to his knowledge.

"'Ships' you?" inquired a third party. Jade and Roy stopped their smiles when they realized that someone heard their jesting.

"Hey, Ryuku," Roy greeted in a flat voice.

"Roy Harper," Ryuku responded. "Are you dating Jade?"

"Ryuku, it's not what you think," Jade attempted to object.

"Yes," answered Roy tersely, cutting off Jade's defense.

"Treat her right," he commanded as he turned to go to his seat.  
"Or what?" challenged Roy.

Ryuku stopped his trek and rotated to face Roy. "That's it," he stated. "Treat her right."

"Sheesh," Roy muttered to Jade once the Samurai wanna-be left the premises. "What's his deal?"

"More like: why did he left you off so easily?" corrected Jade. "He's protective, and I'm surprised he didn't bust out your personal records for a background check right here and now." Roy raised an eyebrow at her comment; Jade realized she left a few pieces out of this current puzzle. "Cousin," she explained. "But more like a brother. We spent a lot of time together growing up and have been close ever since."

Roy nodded with a thin line replacing his smile from moments ago and tightly gripped his pencil. _Good to know._

* * *

"Well, all right," cheered Vic as he and Gar high fived after receiving notice that they'll be in a group together. Richard shot the three a smile in celebration, and Rachel actually put down her book with a ghost of a grin creasing her lips – she didn't rush up to the paper, but could well enough figure out the results due to people's reactions.

"Who's Kori Anders?" Gar asked as he glanced at the roster once more.

"Ah, that reminds me," Mr. Mod stated while he motioned for everyone to take back his or her respective seats. "Your fifth member will be our newest addition to our history class. Miss Anders, go ahead and move your things to the empty chair beside Richard, behind Victor."

Richard glanced up at hearing his name mentioned and caught movement from the spare chair near the front of the room. Quietly and eloquently, the new student strode towards him.

Her long red hair swung with each graceful step and her lean frame easily maneuvered between the desks. She wore a cream, billowy dress that hit her mid-thigh and had three-quarter length sleeves that drifted with her trek. Her dark plum leggings had lilac Aztec designs, which all tucked neatly into light brown ankle boots that made her frame seem impossibly tall. A dainty, dark green circle snuggled upon a thread-like silver chain at her collarbone gave her the overall look of an autumn fairy, more or less.

She was breathtakingly beautiful with her skin resembling tanned sand in color but rich silk in smoothness. Naturally, a smile graced her face, but that was nothing compared to her large eyes that emeralds envied for their hue. However, their brightness instantly went dark and guarded when she neared enough to register who she was told to sit beside.

Aware of the entire class watching her verses listening to Mod continue his lecture; she shoved any hesitation of nearing Richard and slipped into her seat.

Richard wanted to talk to this girl who seemed instantly wary around him; he didn't get a chance as the moment she sat down, she whipped out a notebook and raced her pen along the crisp paper to jot down all Mod rambled about. He sighed and eased out his own paper, not to write notes from lecture, though. Quickly, he scrawled out a message asking the four others in the group to meet in the study nook by the library during their lunch time/free period.

Carefully, he slipped the note to his left to Rachel who barely nodded, then flicked it up to Gar in front of him who also let Vic look over to read. Once Richard got it back, he placed it on the edge of the girl's desk. Apparently, she was so engrossed in the lecture she didn't notice Richard's actions and jumped at his gesture of the note. Confused, she looked at him who in return tried to motion for her to read it. She put her pen down with pursed lips and picked up the note, but not before checking up front to make sure Mod wasn't observing this scene simultaneously.

Strangely, she didn't respond in any way of confirming or not about the information regarding the group project; simply, she placed the note on Richard's desk corner, grabbed her pen, and continued to rush after the information Mod spewed.

He huffed out another sigh, and then decided to follow suit with the note takings of the lesson and grouchily slapped some key points in his notebook.

* * *

Tyson Joto clenched his hands into firm fists as he slouched in Professor Chang's first hour biology lecture. But it wasn't the study of life that was bothering him, but the overly annoying three, as he called them, gabbing and harassing behind him. Tavis Storm, Sid Block, and Seymour Isaacs currently had their victim be the humble and quiet Jericho Joseph.

Personally, Tyson can't handle people who bullied others, probably why he always fought back to those who would belittle him. This then, however, earned him the reputation of a hot-tempered kid who can't keep a lid on his steam.

He knew he wouldn't be able to confront the bullies without absolutely loosing it; he needed backup as much as he hated to entertain that thought. He preferred to keep a low profile and that meant not having too many people surrounding you for hanging out or dates. That was just fine with him, though.

It was a small first period class, so his options would be limited. Glancing left he only saw two girls who couldn't care less about this class, let alone a student being bullied in it. Then to his right was Wally, his suitemate, being entirely too absorbed in trying to impress the Hex girl. Tyson rolled his eyes at that scene.

Apparently very limited options for back-up indeed. He pursed his lips as he realized that he would have to take this solo

He'd ask Toni, but the beautiful and wealthy Antonia Monetti was visiting family for the long weekend; she wouldn't be back until this afternoon late. But the bullying would unfortunately possibly last until then as well.

Tyson sighed and muttered to the three behind him, "Would you guys stop?"

"What's this? Do we have a soul who dares stand up to us?" Tavis sneered.

Tyson honestly didn't know how Tavis ended up in the bad crowd; he wasn't very intimidating like the hulking Sid. Tavis was lanky with blondish-white hair, light brown eyes that could pass as yellow or gold in certain lights, and the boy was all-talk, no muscle.

Sid was the brawn of this particular three. He easily passed 6 foot and neared the halfway mark on up to seven. He wasn't bright, but made up for it with his bulging biceps that have smashed cinderblocks –Tyson's seen it.

Then there was Seymour would throw the trash, but then would go and blush at Jin Hex's presence.

This squad was a mess, and was only a portion of the greater "bad guys" or whatever at T.A. Thankfully, teachers and counselors tried to space the troubled kids apart, but sometimes it'd end up with a gaggle of them in the same class such as first period biology alongside Tyson.

"You guys need to lay off Jericho," Tyson stated. "What's he done to you?"

"I don't think we asked you?" Sid remarked with narrowed black eyes.

"I don't think he asked to be picked on," he retorted, hands clenching.

"I-I'm okay, Tyson, really," piped in Jericho, paling at the thought of a fight brewing between the guys surrounding him.

"I beg to differ," Tyson objected, eyes focused on Sid's face that was begging for a fistful.

"Just go back to your books, Joto. You need all the help you can get, Moroccan Moron," Seymour commented.

"I doubt he can even read American," Sid added with a sneer, oblivious to his grammatical flaw in his insult.

"He can read?" Tavis jabbed with a light cackle.

"Mr. Joto, the lesson is up here, not behind you," interjected Professor Chang who probably believed his lectures were from the Creator of life Himself. Tyson begrudgingly cranked his body back to face the front, anger still boiling inside him, though.

Once Professor Chang resumed raving about genetics, Tavis sneered and leaned forward to Tyson's ear and whispered, "Aw, is the little boy who can't control his angry getting a little upset?"

"Mr. Storm, you seat, please," commanded Professor Chang.

Tavis waited a few moments, and then stated in a low tone, just loud enough for Tyson to hear without moving. "Do you know what gets me mad, Tyson-Wyson?"

Thankfully, the bell rang then, dismissing first period. Tyson snagged his books and hustled it out of there, but a sudden jerk caused him from getting far once in the hallway.

"Leave me and Jericho alone," Tyson spat at Sid who strongly restrained the miffed teen.

"You didn't answer my question, Joto," Tavis commentated as he stepped up close and frowned at the silence from the Moroccan transfer. Tyson swallowed and fixated his unique dark green eyes onto a spot on the floor. "You obviously get upset when people put hippie guitar-playing pacifists into their proper place, which is under my boot, but do you know what makes me mad?"

"You guys, this isn't necessary," piped in Jericho once he left the classroom and saw Tavis throwing words at a trapped Tyson.

"Shut up, hippie," Seymour sneered.

"You're horrible," Tyson flat out stated, but he wasn't sure which one of the three he was directing the comment to.

Then, Johnny Rancid exited his first hour class of geometry and caught the scene of Tavis up in Tyson's face while Sid restrained the dark-completed kid, Seymour held a snarky grin, and, lo and behold, wimpy, hippie kid cowering nearby. "This Monday may not be bad after all," Johnny wickedly muttered to himself as he nodded to Fang, Kyd, and Xavier to follow him.

"Do you know what gets _me_ mad?" Tavis repeated, eyes narrowed but flashing.

"That they allowed his _trash_ to enter this school," Johnny interjected as he entered the proximity, "let alone this country." He crossed his tattooed arms and smirked at seeing the desired result of Tyson loosing his feeble grip on his temper.

Tyson flung his fiery fist left, which Johnny caught, but then Tyson socked his stronger right arm into the smirking face of Johnny Rancid. Johnny stumbled back in shock, but before retaliation could happen, Sid pinned Tyson's shoulders to the solid wall, allowing Tavis and Seymour to hurl insults as Johnny wiped his mouth and thrust his large fist at Tyson's chin. This action slammed his head to hit the wall, making his vision have sudden black spots.

Johnny shoved Sid aside, snagged Tyson's hands and clamped them above the prisoner's head.

"Guys, stop, please," begged the forever peacekeeper, Jericho, with big spring green eyes and a sad expression at the resolution of violence. Sid kicked Jericho's knees, which buckled the boy, and resulted him collapsing on the hard floor, hitting his skull on the ground in the process of the tumble.

"You're not wanted here, Hot Head," Johnny growled to the struggling Tyson who locked his dark green eyes with Johnny's black ones. "Why don't you go cool down?"

Tyson, trusting that Johnny's grip was sure, jumped and lifted his legs to a curled position, then sprang them at the enemy's stomach. Johnny collapsed with the kicking collision to his gut that also let go of his hold on Tyson's wrists.

Tyson cut off his inner victory to see if Jericho was okay. As he squatted next to the down kid who sat up and rubbed his sore head, Tyson found himself staring at profession heels that were tapping in irritation. He glanced up and discovered a woman glaring down at him with an irate expression upon her face.

"Hey, Principal Farr," lamely, Jericho greeted as he cradled his head.

"Mr. Rancid, Block, Isaacs, Storm, Joto, and Joseph," Principal Rita Farr impressively named the accused, a skill acquired from many years head of a school, in an exasperated manner as if she was used to grouping the first five together for trouble. If she was surprised at having to ring in Jericho Joseph for a fight, she didn't show it. "My office. _Now_, gentlemen."

* * *

"Mr. Mod, I cannot work with him," the girl stated to the teacher after Mod dismissed the students to gather with their groups for the final few minutes of class.

Richard was at the door and slowed his exit to meet with his group just a few feet outside in the hall. This statement from the new girl prickled his ears with the upmost curiosity.

"Sure you can, duckie," Mod answered. "Plus, you have no say in the matter."

"What does that have to do with ducks?" she quietly asked herself as she released a frustrated huff and ventured out of the room to the waiting group members in the hall.

"Hey, so, uh," Richard began once she came out of the room but with her back to them. As soon as Richard tried to formulate a coherent sentence, however, she twirled around with anger flashing in her emerald orbs.

"Do not talk to me!" demanded the new girl. "I refuse to work on this assignment with you."

"Why are you so hateful, and to a guy you've never even met?" retaliated Richard, heat rising in his face at the obvious rejection by the girl.

"I just do not wish to be in your group," she stated with arms crossing over her chest.

"What if I don't want you in my group," Richard snapped as he copied her actions and folded his hands inside the creases of his dry elbows.

"What if I do not want to be here!"

"Good, then go back to where you came from!" Instantly, he regretted his words, and not just because of the reaction the stranger had. Anger, frustration, and helplessness overwhelmed her green eyes via tears. She sank to the ground and buried her head in her arms. Richard, uncertain of how to console, shuffled back to the three other members of the group.

"What's her deal?" Gar mumbled to Vic beside him.

"She's gonna wreck the whole project," Vic commented as the three guys watched her.

"I won't let her. I won't lose this fight," Richard stated in a diplomatic tone. Before he could take a step, however, a hand lightly touched his shoulder.

"Maybe… fighting isn't the answer," suggested Rachel. The four silently took in Rachel's advice as they observed the lost girl, alien to her surroundings. Richard felt a tug to reach out to here and bridge the obvious gap between them specifically.

"Wait here," Richard commanded to the others.

"What, you're the boss or something?" Accusingly, Vic asked. "At least she's met me, BB, and Rachel. She's never seen you before except when you're insulting her."

"Just give me a chance," Richard encouraged. He knew he had a connection with this girl somehow; he just couldn't place when, where, or why. He began to cautiously approach the girl.

"Hey," he said. She snapped her head up in response to his voice. A frown settled on her face at seeing whom was speaking to her. "Easy," he continued. "My name is Richard, and I don't want to hurt you, I just want to help," he coaxed in a gentle tone. Slowly, he reached for her hand and helped her stand up.

"_Gopta_," she muttered in a tone that suggested gratitude, he presumed.

For some reason, hearing this foreign girl speak her native language that he heard prior at some point made it all click. Richard realized who she was and why she was familiar: this was the girl that he followed after her escape from the ship back in Europe over the summer. He had tracked her down at the docks, and released her from her handcuffs, but she sprinted before any information was exchanged, or even a complete studying of each other could be accomplished between them.

"Hey, wait. I know you," Richard muttered aloud to mirror his thought process of piecing it together.

The girl must have understood that he fully connected who she was now. Desperate, she stopped him from announcing he knew her by yanking his collar and pressing her lips to a casual, but uncomfortably close place on the corner of his mouth and cheek.

_That_ caught his attention.

She pulled back from the peck after a moment, hand still embracing his shirt's collar, and leaned close to his ear. "If you wish not to be destroyed," she whispered so only he could hear, "you will leave me alone." Her tone was pleading and desperate. It wasn't a threat, or even a demand, more like a deal for his safety and her separation. However, he wasn't interested in deals that didn't have him spinning it in his favor –perk of being raised by a billionaire businessman. Obviously, she knew more of the situation than he did, but he sensed she was trying to protect him and the others even if it meant her seclusion.

She noticed she was still clinging to his shirt, released her tight grip, and fled the area just as the dismissal bell rang, ending first period.

"Well," Vic commentated after a few moments of processing the scene just before them, "the girl sure knows how to make an impression."

* * *

**Author's Note:** _Noticeable quotes/situations from the episode "Go!"_

Disclaimer: I mean absolutely no, no, **no** disrespect to Moroccans, or the country, or transfer students from other countries. I think you are fabulous, but obviously some in the story don't realize that yet.

Stay tuned! And PLEASE leave a review should time allow you to do so. They really are encouraging and let me think where I need to step up my game, or clarify, or who you're ready for an appearance of, too! :D

Characters who you met/were mentioned in "Chapter Five – A Monday Down for the Books, part 1":

Roy Harper – Speedy

Richard Grayson - Robin

Wally West - Kid Flash

Jade Nguyen – Cheshire

Professor Chang – Professor Chang

Tyson Joto – Hot Spot

Jin Hex - Jinx

Tavis Storm - Lightning

Sid Block - Cinderblock

Seymour Isaacs – See-More

Jericho Joseph – Jericho (Sub-note: I know that his alias is Joseph Wilson, not Jericho, but I like the look of this better)

Toni Monetti - Argent

Johnny Rancid – Johnny Rancid

Willis "Fang" McDonald - Fang

Kyndyl "Kyd" Wick – Kyd Wykkyd

Principal Rita Farr – Elasti-Girl

Mr. Mod – Mad Mod

Ryuku Nguyen – Brushido (Sub-note: I know that 'Nguyen' is not Ryuku's alias last name, but, hey, my story ;))

Kori Anders – Starfire


	7. Chapter 6 - Invisible Weights

**Author's Note: **Ello, beauts! Sorry for the long gap in updating! I simply was not happy with this chapter, and then life got crazy. I had three different types of showers (a personal, a wedding, and a baby) for three different friends in three different towns last weekend. Growing up is expensive. But ultimately, I had a blast with my mates, AND I think I'm finally satisfied with this chapter. Maybe not, though. I don't know.

At the bottom, I'll post a character list from Mod's list in Chapter 5 and those who you met in this chap as well!

Oh, my word! SIX Reviews for ONE chapter? You guys spoil, spoil, spoil me!

_Artemis Raven Courtney:_ You'll find out the verdict for our favorite Hot Head and Guitar Pacifist real soon, I'm thinking. I'm liking Roy and Jade's situation, too, haha! And, to be honest, I had to Google "Flinx" and "Spitfire" X) And hmmmm, I don't know who will end up with who in the end, mwhaha. Thanks for your reviews!

_ShinnParker:_ Thank you, thank you for reviewing! Your comment made me smile and super happy!

_The UltimateStar:_ I'm so glad I updated, too, ha! You'll recognize even more quotes in this chapter as well, hopefully! Thank you for the love and for the review, you're too kind.

_DarkFire0407:_ You simply crack me up! Thank you for your faithfulness and support! I hope to not disappoint!

_HexMeIntoAHawthorne:_ First off, I'm honored that you stumbled over my story in the resurrection of you coming to FanFiction again! And I'm SO glad you brought up stuff like clubs! I didn't really dabble in that in this particular chap, but soon it'll get more involved with how they're involved! I picture a lot of them in sports, but like Karen in charge of something, and Gar does his animal movie thing, you know!

_LibbieLies:_ Thank you SO MUCH for your feedback! You're a gem. And no problem about the character lists -it helps me a lot, too, so thanks for that as well!

Disclaimer: I own not Teen Titans, nor DC Comics, nor Gar's jokes. However, as of approx. 8:10, April 21st I AM THE PROUD OWNER OF A MINI FRIDGE. I named it Olaf. Because I'm five.

* * *

As Kori tore away from leaving that horrendously not-thought-out first impression in her group in her history class, the first bell rang signaling the end of a horrid first period. She raced up the stairs that led her to the science and math wing, desperate to reach solitude in her dorm room even though entering the dorm area during school hours was against the tight rules at Titans Academy. She was unaware of Tyson getting steamed at Tavis, Seymour, and Sid. Kori didn't know that Jericho tried to help break up the fight when Johnny and his crew got involved, and she was oblivious to the three of Johnny's gang that weren't involved in the fight that remained in their spots in shock at Tyson's ability to stick up for himself and hold his own especially against Johnny's hulking fists. Kyndyl Wick, or Kyd as he preferred, stood with Fang and Xavier, cohorts of Johnny Rancid, but all with the aura of the bad crowd, and they liked it that way.

"I gotta go see my girl, later," Fang informed them as he scampered down the crowding hall with students being released from first hour.

"Ready for science, Kyd?" lamely, Xavier commented to the quiet and contemplating Kyndyl who just raised his eyebrows in reply and sauntered into Professor Chang's room without waiting up for him. He huffed a sigh, allowed his shoulders to droop a smidge, but then began to enter the classroom as well when suddenly someone crashed into him. He was able to center his balance quickly enough, but the crasher didn't. He glanced over and saw a girl who he's never seen before sprawled on the ground, tears were on her face, and she looked mightily upset.

"I am sorry," she muttered out quickly before shifting her gaze to the floor as she tried to maneuver around to get back up without being trampled by the students ramrodding each other in the hall.

"Oh, ah, it's okay," he replied, lost for words. "Let me help you." And for the second time in the last five minutes, a handsome boy assisted Kori Anders from the school floor. Both boys were entirely different in manner, background, and dress, but still had similarities all the same.

"_Gop_-" she began, but clamped shut her gratitude when she flashbacked to her last thanking in her own language scenario. "I thank you."

"I welcome you?" he replied in confusion. "Uh, I'm Xavier Red, a sophomore. About to head to science," he nodded to the classroom behind them. "You?"

"I am in search of some solitude," she replied, not meaning to be rude.

"Have at it, then," he answered, unsure if she was just saying that to be rid of him or not as she trotted away.

Then, before he, too, could enter Professor Chang's second hour biology class, another student ran into him.

"Ah, c'mon," Xavier griped. This knock wasn't as riveting since the person wasn't booking it as fast as the girl had, but it still caused him to stumble.

"Sorry," apologized the hitter who sounded familiar.

"Hey, Grayson," greeted Xavier.

"Red," Richard replied with a slight nod. "Have you seen a girl come through here a few seconds ago?"

Xavier inwardly sighed. _Of course_ Richard Grayson would have dibs on a pretty new girl. He simply pointed out the proper direction and meandered into the science classroom as Richard hollered back a "Thanks" whilst dashing down the hall.

Knowing that she couldn't escape to the dorms since the elevators require a code to go up there during school hours, with only teachers and staff knowing that week's particular code, Richard anxiously poked his head in each corner and study nook he came upon. In a small, nearly forgotten nook near the elevator, he saw a tanned girl hunched on a couch, obviously upset as she cried and appeared to be utterly alone. Cautiously, like a person nearing a frightened animal, Richard entered the proximity.

"H-hey," he quietly said as he passed through the study nook's open doorframe. She jolted, clearly startled by his entrance, but didn't bolt at the sight of him.

_Improvement_, he slightly rejoiced in the minute victory.

"Please do the leaving me alone," was all she requested when she observed him attempting to inch towards her.

"We're… friends, remember?" he lamely suggested. Obviously, he knew that that particular term was being applied very loosely in this situation, but maybe it'd help keep this girl in one spot long enough to string some answers out of her.

"Friends?" she seemed confused at the word, whether the definition or application to Richard and her, he wasn't sure; regardless, she didn't seem to buy the label.

"Yeah, I mean, like, we'll hang out, do stuff, get to know one another, and look out for one another, I guess," stumbled Richard in dire need of an actual dictionary definition of the term 'friendship.' "I don't know, I never really had to explain it before, but friends means we'll be for each other, and have each other's backs, you know?"

"I know what the word means," she replied with the smallest of smiles as she peered up wither her green orbs through her lashes. Then, coyly, she added, "I just wanted to hear you explain it."

"Oh, well, sorry to put you through that definition explanation, then," he jested, rubbing his neck with his hand. Silence fell between them for a moment.

"For what purpose did you free me?" she suddenly asked in reference to the summer encounter.

"Just..." he stalled for a proper answer since he couldn't explain himself. Should he dare try to tell her that he just simply wanted to help her? How he knows what it's like to be captive in places where you don't want to be? How he connected with her in those few moments?

Then, thankfully, Vic, Gar, and Rachel entered. They must have followed him, but behind a few paces knowing he'd want to try to talk to this new girl alone first. They carefully entered the nook, causing her to straighten a bit, but again, she did not flee.

Richard continued his initial train of thought from her question without exposing too much of it to the others since she wanted privacy on that matter, he gathered. "Just… Trying to be nice," Richard answered, lost at how to respond to this alien.

"Nice?" she seemed lost at this vocabulary word as well. "We do not have this word in my country. Closest is _rutha_. Weak," she explained, eyes narrowing as if insulted should Richard dare accuse of her of being such. He, in turn, began to stutter for a proper reply that would calm her down.

Like the big brother he is to his friends, Vic stepped in, "Well, around here, nice means nice."

"Such as pleasantry, not bad," further added Rachel sensing the girl still lost at this word.

Vic nodded and continued, "And if you want us to keep on being nice, you better tell us what exactly is going on here. You randomly appear in Jump City needing a ride to Titans Academy, which I give. But then you seem to despise our presence, and flee from us every chance you get." It may have been a bit demanding, but it got his point across to her.

"Make the promise to me that you keep the following private?" she requested, green eyes large and vulnerable. A series of "agreed" or nods answered her. She released a dainty sigh before diving into her past. "I am… transfer here. There are attacks upon my country Tameran."

"Tambourine? I've never heard of it," commentated Gar, scratching his temple to help jog his geographical memories.

"Tameran, you idiot," Rachel said as she hit the back of Gar's green-streaked head for emphasis.

"It is a very small and private country," Kori explained. "Many fled to other countries as refugees before they were forced into slavery," she explained, eyes downcast attempting to block out the horrors she witnessed before she was plucked out of her home and placed on a boat for America. "The Gordanians took me prisoner to deliver me to the Citadel to live out my days as their servant."

A million thoughts bombarded the four American native teens at the alien's declaration of what would have been her fate should she not been liberated from this country of hers.

"Initially, that was my fate too, but the government intervened and sent me to America as a refugee so that I may escape the horrid fates of both the Gordanians and the Citadel," she finished, her gaze still to the floor and shoulders slumped forward with weights none of the others could imagine bearing.

"And the Citadel are…?" Rachel asked, cautious to keep her compassion in check. It was dangerous exposing too much sincerity all at once, especially to a girl such as this transfer who has experienced many feelings in the past few days.

"Not nice," the girl enunciated, moving her gaze to the four forming a half circle around her.

"Then you're not going with them," Richard stated, he moved a few steps closer to her with his hand hovering near her shoulder, but not touching. "Not if I have anything to say about it."

"Um, don't you mean we?" piped in Gar.

"Right," corrected Richard with a sheepish smile and retracted his hand.

"We got your back," Vic confirmed, placing his large hand on her shoulder.

"You'll be safe here," added Rachel with a small grin. Her initial thoughts about her roommate were pleasantly inaccurate.

"So about the project," Gar began. "I'm thinking a tribute to-"

"No," chorused Rachel, Vic, and Richard at Gar's suggestion.

"But you didn't even hear my idea."

"We don't need to," Rachel stated. "It'll probably involve an absurd reference to video games, tofu, ninjas, or mopeds."

"Probably all the above," Vic muttered.

"Whatever," grumbled Gar.

"Let's worry about that later," Richard commanded. "We should probably get to class."

"Yes, sir!" saluted Gar as he pivoted to march out of the room, but wasn't paying attention and rammed right into Vic's solid chest. "Dude!" he exclaimed, rubbing his nose. "You've been working out."

"Good!" Vic beamed, not processing the minor injury upon his roommate. "I need to be in tiptop shape for game this Friday. Coach said I might start, even."

"What's your next class?" Richard asked the girl.

"French," she replied after examining her schedule from her book bag.

"Sweet, you have it with Rae and me," declared Gar as he hooked his two arms around both of the girls. Earning a scowl from one and a giggle from the other.

"Don't call me Rae," warned Rachel as she shimmied out of the embrace from Gar. "We'll walk with you," she offered to the girl. She and Gar followed Vic's lead in exiting the study nook to head to second hour that was already closing to halfway finished, though.

"Hey, wait," stopped Richard before she could leave.

"Yes?"

"I never caught your name. I know Mod said it, but…" he was stuttering again, which caused her to release another giggle before hiding her mouth behind her hand.

"I am called Korianna, but you may call me Kori," she introduced with a smile and a slight blush, but instead of holding out her hand for a shake, she gently nodded her head. Unsure of how exactly to reproduce that action, he carried on with what he knew in an American introduction.

"Richard Grayson," he replied, and for the first time in a while, he didn't receive a gasp or swooning motion in response to that declaration of a name. She smiled once more, and then hurried out of the nook, quickly catching up to Gar and Rachel on their way to French.

* * *

Richard easily swooped into science with the half-lie of helping a new student with her next class. Professor Chang accepted the answer and just crazily ranted about how the students better be paying attention to his prized lecture better than his first hour did. When he sat down, Richard turned to get an explanation on whatever Professor Chang meant by that from Roy, but was taken aback at discovering the archery enthusiast was in a new spot beside Jade Nguyen. He raised his eyebrows at that situation and glanced at Trenten in question who simply shrugged and continued to take notes diligently.

Unable to keep his mind on Chang's lesson, Richard allowed his eyes to wander the room. A perk of Titans Academy meant smaller class sizes, except gym where the entire grade has it the same hour together, and this year only two sections of history was offered so first and last period –the times when Mod taught sophomore history classes- were fairly packed as well. This class, being science by Chang second hour, was relativity small on the roster.

He saw Xavier Red who was fine, but nothing more than a teetering troublemaker in school. Kyndyl Wick, Fang MacDonald, and Billy Numerous rounded out the other irksome in his hour. Johnny Rancid would normally be in this mix, but he got busted for fighting or something from what Trenten whispered to him when he entered. Richard then saw up in front be Clay Gnark, a nice kid who hung around a pretty girl named Kole, and a kid he didn't know very well named Killion, or Kilo, Watt. Along with Jade, there resided only two girls in this class; the other was Sara Sims, or the cheerleader Vic has been sweet on despite her dating Atlas, a senior. To his interest, he did spy her writing notes, but rather to a person than about the lecture, and he saw the name "Vic" at the top.

_This was an interesting Monday indeed,_ he silently mused as he slouched in his chair and allowed his mind to wonder about Miss Korianna.

* * *

"I don't believe you, Johnny, in your statement that you were simply inquiring about the country of Morocco when Tyson decided to hit you; but regardless of whatever that truth is, I have to boil it down to the fact that you, Tyson, did indeed throw the first punch?" The question was from Principal Farr addressing Tyson, Johnny, Tavis, Seymour, Sid and Jericho about the fight that broke out between the gaggle of guys.

Tyson shifted in his seat, uncomfortable with Principal's Farr's intense gaze that seemed to make even the toughest of troublemakers confess to the situation. He nodded, anxious about admitting the truth.

"But not the first verbally abusive punch," immediately, Jericho interjected in defense of the sulking Tyson. The blond boy removed his ice pack from his head to make his statement, but having the refreshing cool lift from the bump even for that short time made him immediately bring it back to rest upon his skull. The principal observed this defense and action with the ice pack silently, but chose not to comment at that moment.

"Which brings me to the bullying brought on by Tavis, Sid, and Seymour during your biology lecture," she continued, not amused in the least at how the said bullies kept avoiding her questions amidst her interrogation.

"We were just helping old Jericho get adjusted to how the world will treat him," Sid stated in a cocky tone.

"It is the study of life, after all," jested Tavis with a sneer.

"I don't care if you were studying the cure for all diseases known to man," indignantly, Principal Farr boomed. "I care about how my students treat other students. At Titans Academy I expect exceptional behavior at all times. If you don't agree with being your best in every situation, gentlemen, then I will ask you to leave this academic program."

"You're can't expel us for tossing around a few words," Seymour retorted, slightly on edge on the threat of being kicked out; he knew how many strings his parents -or all of their parents, actually- had to pull to get them into this school that'll stand out like water in desert on college or job applications.

"Oh, I didn't mean expel, Mr. Isaacs," continued Principal Farr, hands firmly placed on her desk in determination as she stood to her full height of 5'8" with heels –expanding her intimidation. "I meant kicked out. I will not tolerate bullying –physical or verbal." Collectively, the five boys slumped in their seats, dreading her verdict. "However, at Titans Academy we do serve punishment differently than most schools as the superintendent is so prudent to remind me.

"Seymour, Tavis, and Jericho, since no punches came from any of you, you three will have no detention, but rather an assignment that your English instructors have been made aware about. I have complied a list of words about bullying and fighting, and the effects both have on the verbal scale. You must define all the words, and write a 500-word essay on each word. Failure to complete the assignment will fail you in that course. It's due Friday by 3:30."

"Aw, for real?" Tavis muttered as Jericho nodded with grim acceptance and Seymour looked faint with the amount of work he now has to do.

She dismissed them, leaving three of the boys left.

"Johnny and Sid, for physically restraining a classmate and continuing a fight, and since you have obvious energy in need to expel, you will assist the school janitor, Bobby Ted, every day after school for two weeks. You'll also have early morning detention during that time. Failure to show up one day to either, and you tack on two additional days to your time. If it's not completed by one month, you'll be expelled where you'll have plenty of time to work on service to others. I suggest you don't miss a day in the upcoming weeks," Principal commentated on the punishment, not in glee, but definitely not remorseful either. Almost as if she has been waiting to dish out some justice on the duo for a while.

They, too, exited the office, leaving Tyson and Principal Farr. She exhaled and sat down as the serving of punishment caused her to pace behind her massive desk. But now she looked tired and even older, as if chastising students ages her.

"And, Tyson," she sighed. "For initiating the fight, even though with just intentions, I have to follow through with the guidelines and the superintendent's orders; although, off the record, I wish not to give you or Jericho any punishment at all."

"Um, thank you," he commented, the first words he'd spoken since entering the office.

"However, though the punishment will not be equal to the others, it will be fair in accordance with the charge of starting the brawl minus the typical suspension," continued Principal Farr. Tyson nodded in understanding, steering his gaze to the floor and wondering if his decision of standing up for the Jericho kid was worth it.

* * *

"Are you an idiot?!" raged Jin Hex to Seymour Isaacs. They stood alone in a study nook near Principal's office, which he just exited from a severe punishing time with the stern, but fair, principal. She had waited for Tavis and Jericho to clear out of the area before she shoved Seymour into the nook for a continued chastising.

"What do you mean?" dumbly, Seymour inquired with his hint of a northern accent.

"Why are you associating yourself with _them_, with Sid Block and Johnny Rancid?" she demanded as she shoved Seymour's arm with each syllable of the accused name.

"I-I'm not," he retorted. "I'm establishing a perimeter, marking territory, and noting who's with who."

"All of which can easily be accomplished from a secure distance away from these guys," Jin stated with narrowed eyes. "There's danger in attaching yourself to people, Seymour."

"So, like, you don't want a boyfriend…?" daringly, he asked, a blush raging through his face like a flame from a bonfire.

"We're not going into that issue again," snapped Jin as she released her tight fist on Seymour's white with green accent lined jacket..

"I'm just curious, though," Seymour drawled out. "Would you consider having a beau?"

"Only with someone I trust," Jin said, allowing her tone to sound defeated and her shoulders to sag as if invisible weights pressed upon the girl. "And I know I can always count on you, Seymour."

"You… you bet!" he chirped as his cheeks roared with rose in a hot blush.

"Great!" She straightened from leaning her head near his shoulder. "Then I know you can go get Baran, Tommy, and Billy together for a meeting during free period today."

"Anything for you, boss," Seymour swooned as Jin pecked his cheek in the most chastised of kisses and zipped away to her second hour.

As she sauntered to geometry, she saw Vic Stone in the hallway as well.

"Skipping class?" she asked, hands on hips, facing the brute.

"Just lost track of time talking to my friends," he answered good-naturedly. "You?"

"Your friends," Jin commented, ignoring his question. "Who would you say you hang around the most?"

"Gar, Richard, Wally, Rachel, and sometimes Sara or Karen, why?" replied Vic.

"Who is the most valuable asset in that hoard?"

"Say what?"

Jin rolled her eyes at the boy before her. "I mean, who has lots of connections?"

"You have a lot of questions for such a cute little lady," Vic commented.

"I'm not little," seethed Jin.

"I call all girls little lady," he explained. "Nothing personal or meant to be vial."

"So you're not just some egotistical meathead who only cares about cars and football and cheerleader skirts?"

"Wow, you went deep quickly."

"Answer the question, Stone," Jin demanded, inching closer to him in anger.

"I appreciate those things, for su-"

"Ha! I knew it. You are just another jock who only wants to score on the field and with fangirl hearts. You wouldn't care about anybody unless they were an asset to you," she accused.

"Look," he narrowed his eyes. "I'm good at football and at fixing cars. In fact, I'm _great_ at both. And just because you can't handle someone being better than you at something, doesn't mean you need to put them down for it. Lay off, man."

"So I'm a guy now," she too narrowed her eyes.

"Why do you take everything so seriously? Maybe not everything said is meant to put you down, have you thought about that, Jin? Not everyone is against you."

"No one has proven that to me," she stated, crossing her arms and frowning at the African American.

"I doubt you've even given someone the chance to prove to you that they might care for you in at least a _friendly_ way," Vic said.

"I doubt you know how to help out another person unless it benefitted you in some way," she challenged.

"Oh?" perked up Vic. "Then how about you and I go on a date?"

"Excuse me?" her tone hinted at being insulted.

"I have nothing to gain by going out with you; it'll actually damage my possibilities with another girl, so I'm the loser here," Vic declared. "I'll show up on time and appropriately dressed, because that's how my momma taught me. It'll be up to you to come or not. Then we'll know who is the true self-seeker here."

Jin clenched her fists and genuinely considered his proposition. She lifted up her finger as if to make a point, but something got the best of her and she bolted into their geometry classroom before she could properly respond. Vic shrugged and wondered why it felt like a small chip was suddenly on his shoulder as he sauntered into the room as well.

* * *

French went by in a flash for both Kori and Rachel. Rachel, naturally gifted in languages, and Kori apparently was fluent in the love language since it was the second most common tongue in Tameran next to Tamerese. English was third, which she was advanced in as well, but did make the occasional error and could not quite grasp the concept of contractions. The two girls also had their third period, biology, together as well. They sat at the same table and continued to get to know one another.

Kori was a bubbly optimist who missed her country but was excited about the opportunities in America. She loved baby animals, purple, and stated that she was stronger than she looked.

Rachel was opposite of Kori: A realist who was pro-gothic colors and pro-keeping control over as much as possible starting with emotions and reactions. She adored reading, enjoyed writing, and doesn't get scared during horror films.

They chatted of trivial things, Rachel itching to inquire about this country, which the Internet offered so little about, and this possible war, and the Citadel and the Gordanians. She wanted to hear it all; her inner history buff was rooting for the conversation to take a turn there. Either Kori sensed this hidden eagerness in Rachel, or simply did not want to discuss her past for their meandering discussion veered sharply at any comment that could lead to Kori's home life.

Once the bell rang for the end of third hour, Rachel waited with Kori at the end of the hall where Gar was to come and retrieve the new alien-like classmate since he and her both had geometry fourth period.

"Hello, ladies," chimed the green-streaked guy as he approached the two girls. "Rae… chel," he quickly added before Rachel could smack him for the loathed nickname usage, "want to know how I was absentminded today?"

"Can I count the ways," drily Rachel referenced to a poem that simply flew under Gar's radar anyway.

"I forgot to tell you something funny today!" announced Gar as if he was alerting her to a moon landing in the late 60s.

"Shame," Rachel commented, not applying any truth to her response as she shifted her books to her other arm and began to make her way down the hall.

"Wait," Gar called, Rachel's steps not faltering, however. "What do you call a scared bison?"

"Good-bye, Garfield," dismissed Rachel, eyes focused on the end of the hall.

Gar disregarded her response and cackled the answer, "Buffalo chicken!"

She didn't look back, but she could bet a hefty sum that Kori was probably blatantly confused at the statement as Gar buckled over in mirth at his back-of-a-cereal-box jokes.

Rachel rounded the corner, simultaneously escaping Gar and thus entering her beloved fourth hour: British literature. Sure the instructor was still Mr. Mod, and he was a bit intense, but he had on a different air in this subject matter rather than normal history. And yes, the actual content of the class was fine, great even. They were in a poetry unit and Rachel was thriving. But the real gem of this class was…

"Malchior, pass back the reports on early British history you all submitted last week," instructed Mr. Mod at the beginning of this blessed fourth hour.

"Of course, sir," the student responded respectfully. With elegance and efficiency, Malchior passed back the papers, already knowing the students by their names –not many classmates take the time to engrave that into memory. He was an upperclassman, but as were the majority of this class since it was typically a junior or senior grade level course. His hair was unique with it being a white, white blond that rivaled the moon for purity of pales. His eyes, blue like the waterfalls on glaciers, never missed anything with how observant and serving he is. As time ticked on, Rachel was beginning to fret since her paper hadn't returned yet, but then relaxed as Malchior examined the name on the last essay, and turned to come near her to leave it on her desk.

"An A," Malchior slyly observed as he placed the paper on Rachel's desk. "Well done, miss," he congratulated with a small smile. She wanted to spit out a word in gratitude, but somehow her eyes flipped to fixate on the hideous tiled floor, and her cheeks entered a rosy hue. Malchior was hesitating to return to his seat just a moment longer than in a typical situation, she was unsure if he caught her hot blush or not, but he did resort to his post bacl at his desk just the same.

Even though she was in an advanced and upper level class, and the work was harder, and Mod treated her like a child since she was in his sophomore history class, and she was blushing a dumb sentence from a classmate, somehow having this gentlemanly specimen everyday for forty-five minutes made it okay.

* * *

Nothing got by Karen Beecher. When she entered her geometry class for fourth period, a few things were awry on this everlasting Monday morning after the long weekend: Antonia, or Toni, Monetti was still visiting family from the weekend, Kilo Watt was fiddling on his phone, Rochelle Murray was babbling endlessly to a non-caring Kilo about her and Kitten's weekend adventures of shopping and nails, and Billy Numerous was eagerly correcting Mr. Mumbo on the homework assignment problems –nothing out of the ordinary with that bunch. Nya Miko was practically drooling over Gar's desk as he spewed corny joke after corny joke at the love-struck girl –typical as well.

Tyson Joto was sulking in his seat –even more than normal- but she did hear rumors of a fight earlier that day, so that may be connected. Or perhaps Toni's absence affected him so; either were plausible points she concluded with the blatant obvious point of the duo's obvious gravitation to one another for companionship.

Trenten Brooks and Kole Crystals were sitting next to each other with the latter giggling at some hopelessly boring tale from the swimmer –_that_ was new. Trenten then slipped out his swim meet schedule of which Kole received with a smile and tucked it in her pocket of her blue jeans. Karen has been in school with Trenten Brooks for years, and that boy never -absolutely _never_\- interacts with girls; he was too much of a blusher to form a coherent sentence to a double X chromosome organism. Karen didn't even know that he knew a life existed outside of the chlorine and goggles.

But the big kicker was the spot beside Richard Grayson and who resided upon the chair: the new girl from Karen's history and French classes. That situation was definitely new. Kori seemed much happier than the state she was in first hour, and if she felt any discomfort with being in a mathematical classroom that spoke English and not her knack of French, she didn't show it. Currently, Richard was explaining the lunch menu to her and how a hot dog was not an actual dog as in puppy.

"But then what is the meat created from?" innocently, Kori inquired to the Boy Wonder.

"You know…" he faltered. "I don't really know. But they're good."

"Dude, no," interjected Gar who sat in front of them. "Tofu-dogs are way better."

"You eat Dorothy's puppy?!" alarmed, asked Kori.

"No, no," Kole piped in with a smile as she leaned to her right closer to Kori. "That's To_to_. To_fu_ is a type of food made from soy."

"You mean made from _joy_!" Gar broadcasted.

Karen smiled at the conversation and found herself silently adding in Vic's input on the subject matter of soy meat, but stopped herself short and shook the grin from her strawberry red lips. She straightened her leather vest over her autumn gold sundress and strutted in her boots to her assigned desk as the bell rang for fourth period to commence. Silently, as she placed a pen and notebook on her desk for note taking, she approved of the possible relationship situations that might be arranging themselves in this class. However, she didn't quite know why she felt a slight invisible weight on her shoulder as if reminding her of how single she was.

* * *

The day was dragging by for Kitten Moth. She didn't get a chance to converse with Clay during first period history, and they didn't have a class together until gym at sixth hour, but that was also with the entire sophomore class. Thus, making her plot known to a generous size of the student body. So, she patiently waited until her final class of that blasted Monday: geometry. She popped beside Clay as he was leaving the locker room.

"Want to walk to geometry together, Clay?" she asked in a buttery sweet tone as she batted her icy blue orbs.

"Um, Kole said…"

"She obviously has better things to do," Kitten observed as they watched Kole emerge from the locker room with Trenten waiting for her. He took her books along with his own and she laughed at something he said. Suddenly, Kole stopped and peered back at Clay.

"Did you find a new buddy to take you to geometry, Clay?" she asked with a friendly smile towards the boy. "That's very kind of you, Kitten."

"You know me, I just love to help the less fortunate."

Kole's smile dropped immediately as she harshly whispered to Kitten, "Clay is hardly less fortunate."

"At lease I don't abandon him no matter how fortunate or not he is," Kitten wickedly sneered. Kole frowned and gestured for them to venture from Clay to continue the discussion; this left Trenten and Clay standing awkwardly beside each other.

"So, ah, I'm Trenten Brooks," greeted the swimmer with a lopsided smile as he stuck out his hand in friendship. Clay grunted in return and sat on the ground crisscross. "Right," Trenten muttered, secretly hoping that Kole wouldn't take too long with Kitten so they could move on to their final period of animal science.

Kole frowned and harshly whispered to Kitten once they took a few steps away from both Trenten and Clay, "Now is not the time to be discussing Clay's condition."

"His condition?" Kitten asked, but tried to recover in faux knowledge. "Like you care about it anymore."

"What on earth would make you say something so bizarre?" asked Kole. "Of course I still care about Clay, but am I not aloud time off as pretend-nurse to have a life of my own?"

This stopped Kitten short, stealing whatever advantage she had and tossing it to the wind with Kole's statement. Nurse? Was Clay sick? Then Kitten noticed Kole's necklace. A blue puzzle piece. She glanced back at Clay, and saw that he wore one as well, but with a thicker chain. It looked like it would connect with hers. Either cheesy friendship necklaces, or…

"Clay's autistic," Kitten stated, bewildered.

Kole hesitated in confirming or denying this Kitten diagnosis. "Very, very mildly on the grand spectrum of autism. He can still learn exceptionally well, and can play the drums better than most professionals," she laughed as if revisiting some personal memory. "He just has issues with always expressing his feelings appropriately, or even at all. His communication is the only place where the disorder is evident. You wouldn't know by the grades he receives or how he can usually adjust to routine moderately well."

"So, like, what exactly? He can't talk good and doesn't like change?"

"His communication isn't always the best, but he means well. And he performs better when there's a schedule and he is aware of what's excepted out of him," kindly, Kole explained. "Kitten, I told you this so you would understand, not use it against him."

"Oh, I understand," Kitten said, voice distant as if already scheming. "I understand that you traded fish boy for a friend who needs you."

"What?!" This was not where Kole had envisioned this confrontation leading.

"I understand that you're abandoning your friend in his time of need," Kitten continued, stepping dangerously close to Kole who backed up unconsciously.

"How-"

"And I understand how to use temporary misjudgments for blackmail."

"Kitten, how could you be so cruel?"

"The same way you didn't come pick Clay up from math on Friday: with ease and hanging out with someone else." With that bone-shaking statement, Kitten marched away, grabbed Clay's wrist –forcing him to stand up- and left the gym.

* * *

"Okay, I don't do girl talk, but, dude, I need to know what's going on," Wally declared as he tossed down his pencil to help make his point. His statement broke the silence between the two roommates as they were studying that Monday afternoon. Roy glanced up from his book as he sprawled on his bed and saw that Wally had fixated his blue gaze upon him.

"I… don't know what you're talking about," brushed off Roy who, in response, ducked and pretended to be thoroughly engrossed in studying biology.

"Dude, that's crap, and you know it," Wally accused as he stood from his desk space and meandered to lean against Roy's bed. He crossed his arms and raised his eyebrows as he nodded as if to signal to Roy to dump it all.

"It's a long story, bro," he attempted to delay with a sigh as he set his book into his lap.

"That's cool," Wally replied with a shrug. "I didn't plan on studying much longer anyway. Plus, I have snacks, so I'm set." From out of nowhere, Wally whipped out a sack of chips and started munching on them as he expectantly waited for Roy to continue.

The strawberry-blond boy ran a hand through his hair as he tossed aside the textbook. He snagged the bag of chips from the redhead and began, in detail, all the events that of which have transpired. From the initial socialite party where the journalist was cornering he and Richard about romance, to Jade's intervention, to the deal, to first hour history and Ryuku's thoughts, Roy confessed it all. It wasn't until after he vomited the confession that he realized how much of a weight it felt upon his shoulders.

"Dang, dude," Wally commentated once Roy finished. "You're in it deep."

"You got that right," agreed Roy as he sat up and threw his legs over the edge of the bed so he could place his elbows on his knees to hold his head as if this much talking gave him a headache.

"How long are you two going to go at it?" Wally asked, seizing back the nearly empty chip bag.

"I have no idea," honestly, he replied.

"As long as the press falls for it and keeps out of your hair, I say go for it as long as possible," advised Wally.

"You think so?" Roy lifted his head as he asked his roommate who was steadily growing towards a solid friendship dynamic.

"Dude, yeah," Wally mumbled with a mouthful of junk food. "We're talking about Jade Nguyen. Total hottie and the star on the dance team. Feisty, too. You get automatic dates to school events, so no worries on psycho-chicks asking you, like Kitten. And you won't have to worry about all the girl drama 'cause Jade's not like that."

"Yeah, but she's more than that," unconsciously, Roy defended.

"Well, and she's also taking you for your fame as a ride to college, but we all gotta pay a price for a smokin' babe on our arms."

Roy glanced up, unsure if he should enlighten Wally a bit more, but decided against further explanation, flopped backwards back onto his rumbled covers and simply mumbled, "A price to pay for sure."

Wally, oblivious to Roy's deeper comments, tossed the empty chip bag at the wastebasket, only to miss. He got up to go throw it in the trash when he saw Trenten enter into their foyer.

"Hey, Water Boy," he greeted.

"You know how I dislike that nickname," replied Trenten as he dumped his swimming bag near the door to his dorm. "It makes me sound like I didn't make the team or something."

"Tragedy," sarcastically, Roy sniped from his position of reclining on the bed.

"What's his deal?" Trenten asked Wally.

"Girls."

"Ugh, tell me about it," sympathized Trenten as he entered their dorm and leaned against the doorframe with his lean frame.

"Wait, you're having girl issues?" Roy asked, perking up his head from his lumpy pillow.

"Trenten likes girls?" Wally jested, earning a light shove from the swimmer.

"Lay off," Trenten defended himself.

"Alright, alright, but seriously, what girl issues, dude?" inquired Wally as he yanked out a bag of pre-popped popcorn, cheddar cheese favored.

"I don't know," sighed Trenten, refusing the processed foods and sipping his water instead. "This girl and I talked after class on Friday and we hung out over the weekend. And today, everything was fine until this kid, Clay Gnark, and Kitten came up to us after gym. Kitten said some stuff to Kole that she refused to repeat even though it kept her mind occupied all last period. She didn't even wait up for me after class let out."

"Girls are weird," Roy commentated, eyes fixated on some spot on the ceiling.

"Word," agreed Wally as he shoveled in the popcorn, gaining cheese-powdered fingers in the process.

"Wow, thanks for the advice, guys," Trenten drily replied. Roy chucked a pillow at him in response that he managed to duck, but it still ended up hitting Tyson who just walked in.

"Good afternoon to you, too," Tyson quipped as he kicked the pillow into the bathroom.

"Where have you been?" Trenten asked his roommate.

"Farr's office receiving my punishment for starting a fight."

"Dude, that was you?" Roy asked, finally emerging from his self-pity, pity party.

"Did you win?" interjected Wally, eagerness like a child at Christmas on his face.

"Yes and kind of," he answered as he turned to leave the room.

"Wait, that's all the details we get?" Wally whined.

"Was anyone hurt?" logically and lamely, Trenten inquired.

"What's your punishment?" Roy hollered before Tyson could completely lock himself in his room. Tyson rolled his eyes at his boisterous friends and slowly walked back to Roy and Wally's room to continue this dumb conversation.

"Well, since there were no major injuries and I was defending another student-"

"Wait, who?" cut in Wally.

"Jericho Joseph," Tyson replied, slightly irritated at the interruption.

"And who did you face off against?" persisted Roy.

"Sid Block, Johnny Rancid, Seymour Isaacs, and Tavis Storm."

"Props," Roy smirked as he congratulated his suitemate. Trenten let out an impressed whistle, and Wally asked Tyson if he had a death wish and then for him to continue with his statement.

"Since it was my first offense, I have after-school detention for three weeks, have to help Professor Chang before school during that time, and I'm benched for the rest of the football season."

"Gross on the Professor Chang part," Wally stated after Tyson finished his ramble.

"Thank goodness this wasn't during basketball season," added Roy who was sitting up now.

"Our team would be toast for sure without you, Hot Shot," complimented Trenten.

"You guys are lame," Tyson replied with a shake of his head, but a sincere smile, as he left the room once more to hole himself up in his room; the weight on his shoulder lifting just the slightest at his realization that his roommates made him feel better about the situation.

* * *

"So was your first day a good one, after all?" Richard asked the latest addition to his friend squad. He, Vic, Gar, Rachel, a bunch of others, and now Kori were all lounging in the main living room. Kori and Richard sat on the couch, just slightly apart from the main group. Vic and Gar duking it out on their gaming system –Richard plays winner. Rachel was reading a younger level book but in French in effort to sharpen her skills to advance to the higher levels of the language. Karen was offering non-wanted, backseat-driver advice to Vic on how to win the racing game with her biology notes forgotten in her lap.

Jade sat close to Roy, not daring to snuggle up next to the faux beau so soon, but they reclined near one another, aimlessly talking about this and that as they shot grapes into each other's mouths. Occasionally, a pout rang from the other side of Roy and Jade would half-heartily toss a grape to third-wheel Wally who was trying desperately not to make eye contact with Jin. She normally didn't hang in a big group like this, but she felt she needed to prove something to Vic by being with people; plus, she had to prove to Seymour that it was possibly to keep a distance –physically and emotionally- away from these people. She occupied herself by working on her sketchbook for art class and blushing at the encouraging comments from Trenten.

He was so good a being a friend to everybody, she almost felt bad for deliberately brushing off his humble praise, but, then again, he was kind to everyone. Trenten had came in with Kole who was still in an off mood, but refused to discuss it with him, but they both hung around the island in the small kitchen where Clay was whipping up a huge batch of cookies for the group. There also sat Sara Sims with a bored looking Atlas who continuously griped about being in the lower-level section when he should be flourishing in the senior hangouts. Sara attempted to ignore him and attempted to make her glances at Vic inconspicuous.

Tyson –exhausted from his community service that afternoon- sprawled over a good portion of one of the "u" shaped couch's pegs, but he immediately shot up when Toni entered in all her Aussie glory. A round of greetings erupted from the gaggle as she finally arrived from visiting family with the long weekend, but quickly they all fell into how they were moments prior.

Kori glanced around at the various people in the room with her and she smiled. "I think I will like it here. I like this." She gestured to the friends scattered throughout the space. Richard grinned at her sincere comment, silently rejoicing at how far they've come in this Monday for the books, and quite possibly the longest day in history, and he felt an invisible weight lift that he didn't know was there. Apparently pondering over this girl took up more time than he initially had guessed.

"I like this, too," he replied shifting at Clay's declaration of the cookies being ready made his hand hall near hers, but she didn't move it.

"I like this, too, dear Richard," the man commented to his apprentice, Grant, as he observed the sickly-sweet scene through his state-of-the-art monitoring screen.

"Sir, do you have the report ready for Sebastian?" inquired the apprentice, avoiding his master's sarcasm and obvious distain at the screen currently. "He's getting antsy."

"Aren't we all?" The man replied. He clasped his hands firmly behind his back, never allowing his apprentice –or anyone for that matter- to see his face. "The swarm isn't mature enough yet. Report."

Grant hustled over to his notes on a tattered clipboard and slipped through the pages to find his desired stats of research. "Stimulants enhanced Subject 2's physical performance, Subject 3 and 4's logical processing, and Subject 5's senses."

"Six?"

"Subject Six's response to the stimulants has been negative with no performance improvement in damaged area," dutifully Grant replied.

"And what of our leader?" inquired the master, "our beloved Subject 1?"

"Subject 1 is advancing beautifully, sir," Grant reported with a small grin. "If all the subjects responded the way Subject 1 has, then we'd only need five for an army."

"How fortunate for at least one of the experiments to be progressing," commented the man to no one in particular. He stopped his speculation to adjust a button on his cuff and then flick away invisible lint. "Increase dosage and communication receptors in all subjects," he commanded as if his demand was as lighthearted as winding a clock.

"Sir?" Grant dared object.

"You mean 'Yes, sir,'" the master corrected. "If I wanted an opinion on my demands, I would have asked for one."

"Yes, sir," meekly, Grant complied. His job was a tough one: obeying every whim of this possibly psychopathic boss, but you can't just up and leave a job like that. Men like his boss/master have a way of chaining you permanently to your occupation until they are through with you. And so, with an invisible weight upon his shoulders, Grant pressed the communicator button and regretfully muttered, "All subjects must report back to the Hive for new orders. Nod if this order was received."

He didn't have to glance at the screens that his master was obsessed with watching to know that several of those in that room they were observing nodded their heads in understanding of their new orders.

* * *

**Author's Note:**

**DISCLAIMER: **I am NOT an expert in autism nor all of which a situation such as that entails, but I wanted to add some "real life" into this story and real people deal with stuff like that. Since I'm not a doctor or in association with someone who is, I decided to make it a "mild" issue on the spectrum -if that makes sense. I got my information from **_autism speaks dot org._** This isn't an endorsement, but it's a great site for information! I am so, so sorry if for some reason having that aspect in my story offends you in any way. If I ever misrepresent it, please kindly alert me and I'll amend it for proper light.

Subnote: I'm not a guy; so I don't really know how to write guy "heart-to-hearts", so forgive me in that aspect.

_Noticeable quotes/situations from the episode "Go!"_

Mr. Mod's Groups for first hour History/Characters who you met in Chapter 6 - "Invisible Weights":

Karen Beecher – Bumblebee

Trenten Brooks – Aqualad

Roy Harper – Speedy

Jade Nguyen – Cheshire

Connor Wilde – Wildebeest

Jeremy Frank – Control Freak

Leonid Kovar – Red Star

Thomas Rocket – Punk Rocket

Gan Storm – Thunder

Kilion "Kilo" Watt – Kilowatt

Kole Crystals – Kole

Clay Gnark – Gnarrk

Kitten Moth – Kitten Moth

Sara Sims – Sarasim

Donna Troy – Wonder Girl

Adonis Aarons – Adonis

Amber McKenney – Amber McKenney (apparently this is one of the girls beside the girl who is thought to be Terra in episode "Things Change". But, bro, like, I don't know. It's literally just a girl).

Nya Miko – Nya Nya (from the movie, the Japanese girl who Beast Boy was with)

Ryuku Nguyen – Ryuku

Billy Numerous – Billy Numerous

Richard Grayson – Robin

Garfield Logan – Beast Boy

Rachel Roth - Raven

Vic Stone - Cyborg

Kori Anders - Starfire

Xavier Red – Red X

Kyndyl "Kyd" Wick – Kyd Wyckyd

Fang MacDonald - Fang

Principal Rita Farr – Elasti-Girl

Johnny Rancid – Johnny Rancid

Tyson Joto – Hot Spot

Jericho Joseph - Jericho

Sid Block – Cinderblock

Tavis Storm – Lightning

Seymour Isaacs – See-more

Jin Hex - Jinx

Baran Flinders- Mammoth

Tommy Moz - Gizmo

Malchior – Malchior

Mr. Mod – Mod

Atonia "Toni" Monetti – Argent

Rochelle Murray – Dionne Rochelle Murray (same situation as Amber).

Mr. Mumbo – The Amazing Mumbo

Wally West – Kid Flash

Goodness, are you still reading this? God bless you. Please, review!


	8. Chapter 7 - Let's Go

**Author's Note:** HELLO, YOU BEAUTIFUL AND PATIENT AND LOYAL READER. I apologize deeply for your horredously long wait for this update. It took me forever to be happy with the direction of it, and then life would get in the way. This summer has been CRAZY busy, but so, so good! I hope yours has been as well.

This chapter cover of a **ton** ground and characters. I keep on diving into side characters' life and possible plots, but am trying to stay focused, but also couldn't bear to rid of any side-story in this chapter. Hence, the length. THE LENGTH. My word.

Side note: Apologies on my horrible trash talk or whatever, I'm not good at that stuff. Which is good, I guess? But hopefully it doesn't look like a total Disney Channel throwdown. Heh.

Thank you, thank you, thank you to those who have read, liked, followed, and reviewed! Special shout out to: **_ShinnParker_**, _**Artemis Raven Courtney**_, _**Guest**_,_** T****he Ultimate Star**_, and_ **DarkFire0407**._

Happy reading!

* * *

Compared to that Monday down for the books, the rest of the week was fairly mellow. The friends mingled during free time and mourned over homework in the evenings. Sport practices, club meetings, dorm chores, phone calls to loved ones, and social events sated the evenings for the students.

They all openly accepted Kori who was still adjusting to life in a boarding school, let alone life in America. She was, however, quite tight lipped about her home country and past, but no one pried the redhead's history. Richard, of course, was largely curious about her and what she was doing on that shipping vessel back in July, but he felt that the timing for that conversation had to be right, and now was not the time. Thus, he made their time in school be about class, and their afternoons be about showing Kori around and just talking to her. He was quite surprised at how easy she was to converse with despite her occasional inaccurate grammatical declaration; her enthusiasm outshined any wrong English. Kori was outgoing and friendly and didn't fawn at his feet for a favor or money or a personal appearance at some function. It was nice to just have a friendship and nothing deeper.

The fact that only two of Richard's classes did not have Kori Anders among the roster was only good news for the boy wonder. He took to walking her to class –since she was new and didn't know where the classrooms were located he insisted. More than once, they were shushed for talking in class, which only resulted in Kori giggling at the faces he'd make at a turned teacher's back. Pleasantly, Richard was surprised to see how natural an art instrument looked in Kori's grip. She simply shrugged when he asked if she had any painting or drawing experience in Tameran. Tight lipped she remained.

Roy and Jade were opposite Richard and Kori's blooming friendship with the pair starting to have lunch together and talking during free period –gradually getting to know one another as "boyfriend" and "girlfriend". Wally often joined them –not noticing if he was a third wheel or not. Jade kept busy with dance squad while Roy stuck with his archery despite her relentless Robin Hood jokes. But, much to both Roy and Jade's surprise, they actually got along for the most part and didn't want to kill each other by the end of the day.

Kole was wary with Kitten's threats of hurting both her and Clay, but was able to finally discuss it with Trenten who reassured her that Kitten was all talk and no action. He also understood about her mothering-type relationship with Clay and didn't seem bugged by their closeness. Clay still waited after each class for Kole to walk with him to the next one, which helped her feel that the two were regulating into a normal dynamic once more. She spent her afternoons watching Trenten's swim practice –for safety reasons, she'd claim, since he like to stay later than the team to stroke a few solo laps. Then, the two did homework with each other in the living room space. Trenten never failed to walk Kole to her dorm's door every evening with a goodnight mumble and smile before he scampered off to his own dorm.

Jericho slaved away on his essay about bullying, but knew it was missing some aspects. He was just about to give up and turn it in as is, when a tired sigh heaved beside him and he glanced to the left. Typically, he was a wallflower and tended to simply observe people, but it looked like this student needed to vent. Plus, she was utterly gorgeous. He gathered the courage to ask her to read over his paper for advice, and she smiled in return and said that she'd be happy to help. Jericho melted internally.

Tyson began the road to redemption via community service Principal Farr assigned him. He didn't actually mind the work; it was the long hours and time with Professor Chang that were getting to him. Plus, Jericho took the fight as an initiation to their friendship or something and continuously circled him like a hawk. It was getting on Tyson's nerves, to be honest. Having Toni, back helped; although, she was none to happy about the trouble he got in due to the fight, and would've given him the cold shoulder about his choices, but he is her best friend and they had too much to catch up on.

Toni Monetti, a wealthy New Zealand native, had all the right connections and knew all the right people to get precisely what she wanted whenever she wanted. She wasn't a snotty brat, but could occasionally drift to the diva side. Typically, Tyson was able to cool her off of her pedestal, ironically enough, and bring down-to-earth. He, however, was never a fan of how many selfies the girl posted to social media, or how frequent those pictures captured yet another celebrity. More often than not, Tyson reflected, the posted picture would have some of his better-known classmates involved. It didn't bother him, Tyson would inwardly convince himself, it didn't bother him one bit that Richard Grayson, heir to millions of dollars and fangirl hearts, was featured in Toni's life at nearly every socialite event. Not. One. Bit.

"You're clenching your hand again, mate," observed Toni. Her comment was directed to the only person in the study nook with her during their free period and lunchtime, Tyson. She had only been back to Jump for hardly two days and was already mentally done doing school assignments. Homework was not her thing. She would much rather travel, see how much black she can incorporate into an outfit, hunt for celebrities, or lead the Lady Titans on the softball team and tennis courts. Toni didn't mind hard work, but she certainly welcomed any breaks in her slaving to the school as well.

Wordlessly, he unbound his thoughts and hands and picked up his water bottle for a sip. "Are mad at yourself or someone else?" she guessed, glancing up from her phone.

"When is your next socialite gag thing?" Tyson inquired, blatantly missing her question.

"You know I hate it when you call my plans boring or the like," she stated in a firm tone, grey eyes narrowing as she crossed her pale arms in front of her designer black v-neck tee that perfectly resembled something a convenient store would sell in Tyson's opinion. On the shirt was a small breast pocket with some pirate bone pattern in black and white. Dark washed distressed skinny jeans above black flats with gold spikey studs on the toes brought out Toni's punk-personality that was becoming more apparent as the years went by. Chunky gold and black jewelry completed the New Zealander's glam look for the casual Thursday afternoon, and was quite opposite Tyson's black sporty t-shirt, green athletic shorts, and worn sneakers.

"You know I hate how you block out the world when a rich person throws a shindig," countered Tyson.

"I do no such thing," Toni declared. Just then her phone lit up and her face brightened. "I got to jet, Ty, but I'll catch you later, mate," Toni dismissed as she breezed by the Moroccan and left the study nook in haste.

"'Catch you later, mate,'" he mimicked quietly to himself, fingers rolling to clench his palms once more.

"Talking to yourself again?" commented a new voice. Tyson whipped around to see Jade leaning against the doorframe of the study nook with a smirk on her Vietnamese face. He didn't respond verbally, but raised his dark eyebrows at her remark. She popped from her posture to stand straighter. "It's actually perfect timing that I caught you."

"Oh?" he finally uttered to Jade who smiled at him actually replying to her.

"I have a dance thing tomorrow," began Jade, "and will have to miss my afternoon classes. Would it be possible for you get whatever homework Master Chu Hui is bound to assign in English and Segway it back to me?"

"Yeah," he simply answered.

"You're a gem," awarded she. "Oh, and one more thing. If there's a lecture, could you take notes for me, too?"

"Yeah, sure," sighed Tyson.

"Thanks a million, Tyson," chimed Jade with the same charm that convinced Roy to give her piggyback rides when she was tired. "I owe you one!"

She turned to leave Tyson, but he opened his mouth that caused her to pause in her exit.

"Um, can I ask you something?"

"Go for it," she offered, hands on hips like that of a confidant woman.

"Are you going to the homecoming dance?" he managed out, red heating his face at the absurdity of the question that just stumbled out of his mouth.

"Oh, uh, Tyson," soothed Jade in a tone of comforting a hurt pet. "I'm going with Roy Harper…"

"You are?" bewildered at that setup, he asked, but then shook his head. "Um, what I meant was are you going and if so, how were you asked?"

"Ah," grinned Jade in understanding. "You want to ask some lucky girl to the dance, right?" He nodded. "Roy hasn't actually asked me yet," Jade admitted with a sheepish look. "But we are going together. My advice to you in asking your girl would be to be yourself." She smiled once more, patted his shoulder like a teacher does when giving life-changing advice to a pupil, and officially left the room.

_Great_, he pondered silently. That advice and situation did not go how he wanted it to; plus, he earned himself additional homework to help out Jade. But, at least he recovered nicely from her rejecting his asking to go to homecoming together. _Since when were Roy Harper and Jade Nguyen a thing? _He shook his head and wandered to his fifth period English course that was with both Jade and Toni. Now _he_ was mentally done with this week and it was looking to be a long Thursday afternoon.

* * *

Vic threw himself completely into football practice everyday now that his mind wasn't occupied with his car; his baby was completed and perfect. After leaving his all on the gridiron for practice, he'd walk by the space on Titans Academy grounds where the cheerleaders practiced to discover each time that practice ended a half hour prior, yet the captain still ran through drills to herself in the day's fading light of late afternoon.

"Bee, you're going to run yourself into the ground," Vic chastised each time he caught her exerting herself beyond 100%.

"Don't worry about me, Sparky," she'd snap back, irritated to have her concentration thrown off by the jock.

This comment always resulted in Vic rolling his eyes with a chuckle as he'd retort: "C'mon, Bee," he'd tease, "Let the pom poms chill for a bit and let's go hit the cafeteria for a PB&amp;H, then the books."

Every time he enticed her with the thought of one of his original recipe peanut butter and honey sandwich, she'd hesitate on completing her routine before tossing everything into her gym bag, which Vic would shrug onto his shoulder beside his own bag, and the two would trek to the T-shaped tower. It was an interesting friendship-dynamic the two had, but it resulted in sandwiches and studying together with some good, friendly conversations in the mix as well.

"Good practice?" Vic inquired the girl once they entered the school building on that particular Thursday afternoon.

"Productive enough," replied Karen with a slight huff upon reflecting over her team's progress. "But the girls are slacking in their tucks and formations with it hitting close to mid-season; plus, homecoming was pushed a week back than normal, so they're losing their pep they need to rally for the entire school."

Vic raised his brown eyebrows and eyed Karen out of the corner of his gray-blue eyes, observing her tense shoulders and occupied expression. They climbed the stairs leading to the floor with the cafeteria, gym, and a few classrooms. Vic broke the silence. "Bee, how come you're not happy with what you got?"

"With what you have," she automatically corrected his grammar.

"Exactly," he pointed out, snapping to help emphasize. "Example A! You're never satisfied with what's presented to you. You have this obsession of needing more out of what is already there."

As Karen parted her pursed lips to reply, Sara Sims bounded out of the gym, hair up in a ponytail exposing her defined cheekbones and highlighting her almond skin tone.

"Hey, Sara," greeted Vic with a smile that was different than the ones he gave his other female pals.

"Afternoon, Vic, Karen," she replied, a grin lighting up her cerulean eyes –such a peculiar iris color with her dark complexion and hair. "What are you two up to?"

Karen stated matter-of-factly to her roommate, "Heading to the café-"

"Oh, we're not a two," Vic cut in, dropping his and Karen's bags in the process of explaining.

"Excuse me?" Karen objected.

"We're not a thing if that's what you were implying," he clarified to Sara –oblivious to Karen- through the fumbling of communicating with the beautiful girl.

"Right," Sara nodded, causing her silky black hair to shimmer with movement like glassy water falling at night. "I wasn't implying a thing," she chimed, lifting her chin to help her eyes collide with Vic's vision.

"Just didn't want you to think we were together," again, Vic stated.

"Because that'd be absolutely awful to be tied down," sarcastically, Karen quipped to no one in particular, glancing off and up into the air searching for either a person to actually listen to her or for a way out of this situation.

"Well, we wouldn't want the great Victor Stone falsely portrayed as a taken man, now would we?" Sara enticed the unnecessary conversation with her winking her unbelievably blue orbs at Vic and Karen, but solely the former.

"I-I wouldn't say 'the great Victor Stone'," he continued to stammer, a blush entering his brown face.

Karen scoffed and muttered quietly, "You got that right."

"I would," smiled Sara in a voice that was both sweet and sincere and made you want to believe every syllable she uttered. "I'd definitely attribute you that title, Vic. You're a great athlete with a good heart."

"You think I'm great?" he asked, completely altering the compliment.

"I'm so done with this conversation," declared Karen with attitude and sass splashing into her tone and body language, but both her words and stance were lost upon the two beside her.

"I'm done with football practice which is why I was heading to the cafeteria; 'bout to grab some grub. Want to join Karen and me for a PB&amp;H?" Vic offered. Karen gasped. She didn't know what caught her off guard the most: Vic ignoring/plain not absorbing her words, or him offering 'their' treat to an outsider, or Vic calling her Karen. She was his Bee. Well, not _his_ Bee, of course, but that's what he called her. Bee. But for some reason, such as now, when it came to including her in a conversation with another person –another girl to be exact- Karen's status dropped from friendly nickname to informal and impersonal.

"A PB&amp;H? Ha, sounds gross," Sara crinkled her nose, but still held that sincere smile. "But I'd love to come for conversation. Atlas is still in the weight room so I'm free for another half hour or so."

"Cool," answered Vic with an easy grin, not deterring with the mention of the attractive cheerleader's older, influential, and more powerful boyfriend. He offered his hand to retrieve Sara's small gym bag, which she easily gave over to him. It took weeks for Karen to finally allow him to hold her duffle -and it was at his insistence that it was to uphold her status as a lady, not put her down. Sara simply accepted the offer and Vic didn't seem to mind her spirit one bit… but Karen did. They sauntered down the hall, laughing with each step at something that can't possibly be _that_ humorous since it derived from Vic's mouth. Karen was glued to her spot, however. Both her and her gym bag that Vic was carrying just minutes prior were forgotten by the gym doors.

She sighed and mumbled, "Vic, how come you've never happy with what you got?" Shaking her head, she slipped into the next stairwell to trek up to her room; a PB&amp;H didn't sound appetizing anymore after all.

* * *

Their room was littered with root beer cans, chip bags, and dirty socks. The television had never been sighted switched off between the zombie or ninja movies, sports channels, and video games happening on the electronic device. Underneath the chaos of clothes laid car parts, dollar store gags, and forgotten textbooks. The dorm room of Vic and Gar definitely lived up to the stereotypical sloppy high school male status, but it didn't bother either of them.

They bonded through it all, and actually had some good guy time with one another. Sure, Vic didn't always take Gar seriously and Gar would hound Vic about meat usage, but the two got along as if they knew each other all their lives. They were good to include Richard to hang out –even though the black haired rich boy couldn't hide his competitive side in their racing video game, and took it too seriously. Richard loved hanging out with Gar and Vic, and the three came to be quite close in the short month school had been in session, but he still liked his time to himself and would slip off to the gym, or something.

Becoming roommates with the guy who Gar would practically worship was probably the best thing that Titans Academy could do for him. Well, that, and having the beloved animal science course since Gar fell behind on homework in nearly all subjects, but soared ahead of the class in his animal science class.

Mr. Soto, the animal science instructor, claimed to not have favorites, but clearly Gar was the exception to that declaration for more often than not, the two would be found squealing about some cell found under a microscope, or comparing bone structures to other creatures, or ranting about dinosaurs. It was in that class and with that teacher where Gar felt he truly started to understand those students who adored school. He wouldn't full-on pledge to loving academics all the time, but it helped having a sanctuary hour of subject matter that made sense to him and his green-streaked hair.

His lab partner was Nya Miko, who found him to be the funniest human being ever to have cracked a joke on the planet. Gar appreciated the laughs, but hers wasn't the one he was after. He was determined to make Rachel Roth laugh, and he endlessly perused through comic books, candy wrappers, and joke apps for the perfect comedic piece to give to the introverted girl. Reflecting upon the situation, Gar wasn't quite sure why he wanted her to laugh so much. Did he like her like her? Like the way Richard obviously did with Kori, or Vic does with Sara? Was Gar supposed to have someone special, too? _Ha!_ He inwardly thought with a smile at the ridiculous notion. He loved the attention and adoring fans of his stand up gig, but he didn't want to settle down for a girl no matter how much she loved his jokes or obsession with root beer.

And yet, he pursued the mirth for Rachel still.

* * *

Kori moved in with Rachel in the dorm. Even though Rachel was glad her initial impression of the newcomer of her being a shallow, rich girl was wrong, the two still didn't quite have enough common ground for a firm friendship yet. Plus, the fact that Kori has never shared a room before and Rachel hated the excessive use of color Kori brought in tilted the table on solidifying peace between the pair.

The other two suitemates, Karen and Sara, both welcomed Kori with open arms, and even somehow convinced the peppy newcomer that her joyful spirit suited the cheerleading squad at Titans Academy. She tried out and made Varsity –much to the displeasure of JV members and teammates who have been on the squad all season. Kori wouldn't be allowed to cheer the home game that evening since she was still nailing down the routines, but she was excited for the game regardless.

Rachel, however, didn't really "do" sporting events, but Gar said he'd pay for her entry fee and snacks, and Jin commented in British Literature how she was going. They weren't buddy-buddy, her and Jin, but they both enjoyed keeping to themselves near each other, and that was a solid acquaintanceship for Rachel.

She'd never admit it out loud, but she also knew that a certain someone would be present to photograph the game since he was Assistant Editor for the yearbook staff. She felt silly, school girlish actually, for purposefully placing herself in situations where he might be, but she was intrigued and felt she deserved to do something for herself for once. Something that didn't involve her family –specifically her father- was a grand slam way to spend time in her book.

Currently, it was early Friday morning of that magnanimously eventful week, and she sent a vague reply to her mother that she wouldn't be home again this weekend due to the game and helping her roommate settle in the dorm. That was kind of the truth, but a huge portion of her avoiding home, which was in the rundowns of Gotham's downtown over three hours from Jump, dealt with the controlling, persuasive, and manipulative man who knew of her capabilities, past, and destiny.

Before unchecked tears could mist her vision at the thought of that man, her phone lit up once more with a text message. "Ugh," muttered Rachel in a sigh out loud; to anyone else, the heave of air would have been exasperation at the message, but to Rachel it was both that and relief that it was not her family attempting to contact her.

"Something the matter?" Kori asked, eyes still closed with her arm flopped over her eyes. The two girls heard their alarms scream out ten minutes ago, but they were in denial about having to leave the cozy covers. It has been a long week for both of them with Rachel applying for jobs, moving in Kori, and keeping up with her personal studies as well. Kori was also swamped as she was still adjusting to the time change from Europe; plus, her new friends have been more than welcoming by cramming Kori's week with the sights of the school, from the gridiron and the tracks to the classrooms and hang outs. The two were plum tuckered out, and, unfortunately, they still had the whole school day of Friday to conquer before the weekend –Kori's first in the States- could be fully embraced.

"It's Gar," explained Rachel in a sigh. "He texted me."

Kori lifted her arm off her sleepy face in response to that statement, and replied, "Everything all right?"

"Yeah."

"Then why do you sound like it is not?" compassionately, Kori inquired.

Rachel raised her eyebrow at Kori's genuine interest. Normally, she would dismiss anyone looking into her life, but she decided to not pick this battle of keeping something this lowkey from the girl who'll be living ten feet from her all year; thus, Rachel raised her phone to her face and read: "'What is brown and sticky? A stick.'"

"I do not understand."

"Gar is determined to get me to laugh; so he tells me something funny, or at least what _he_ thinks is funny, everyday," Rachel explained, propping herself on her elbow and facing Kori across the room.

"Why does he do that?" asked Kori as she sat up and swung her legs over the side of her narrow dorm bed. Rachel shrugged in response and slipped off of her bed. Kori chewed her bottom lip in contemplation before braving her comment. "I think that his actions are kind of… sweet."

"Gar? Sweet? Please," Rachel scoffed, inwardly cringing at Kori dissecting the information for more than what it was. "The only thing 'sweet' about Gar is his absurd consumption of candy for his sweet tooth."

"I suppose so," lamely, Kori agreed to Rachel although she personally wondered if there were different intentions in the joke tirade from the goofy green guy. She dropped the conversation, sauntered to her disheveled desk that held boxes of school supplies yet to be unpacked, and plugged her phone into the speakers. With Kori playing a lively tune on low –much to Rachel's surprise- the girls got ready for the glorious Friday; Kori quietly hummed and Rachel tolerated the morning joy. Neither girl really spoke except for the occasional "Have you seen my white shoes", "Did you get the homework for Mod's done yet", "Isn't this day completely pointless", "Can I borrow your lotion" –typical roommate morning conversations.

After zipping in and out of the lukewarm water for her shower, Rachel donned a simple black tee that had the Titans Academy logo in a gold text on the front, and her gray skinnies pooled a small fabric puddle around her black converse feet. It was a non-complicated outfit that was school-spirited for the game (and a half-priced ticket at the gate), but also causal. She finished the look with gold studs in her ears and a thin gold chain that held a bird's silhouette. Her hair was left down since it was slightly damp because she was too lazy to completely blow dry it all, but Rachel did pin back her bangs since they insisted on becoming obstacles in her effort to read. She yanked her messenger bag up from being hooked on her bedpost, and looped it around her small frame. She glanced inside her bag and sighed when she realized her novel wasn't in there; she then scoured her nightstand for her reading material that always seemed to slip from her at some point in the evening when she crashed mid-chapter.

Kori was able to start her morning routine prior to Rachel since she showered –a new experience having only bathed in Tameran- at night. She was graced in her cheerleading uniform since that was mandatory on home game days. The uniform was a sleek look with black long sleeves under a black and gold tank. _Titans_ was boldly imprinted across the front with white highlight to make it stand out from the black and gold abstract lines that created an urban look to the top. The skirt hit mid-thigh, and was black with gold and white outlining the hem along with built-in black spandex underneath. The required cheer shoes hadn't been on hand in the extra supplies, so she settled for her normal plain white Vans. Her hair was in a loose ponytail that'd eventually only lead to a headache since her fiery locks were so thick, but it kept the majority of the mane under wraps for the meantime. Kori added the standard gold and black bow to her hair and looked apart of not only the cheerleading team, but also the school. She smiled at her reflection before quickly dabbing neutral eye shadow to her lids –she'd add sparkle and gold once it got closer to the kick off of the game later that day.

Just as the digital clock flipped to 8:01 a.m., the pair left their dorm and stopped by the kitchen in the rec space for a quick breakfast of oatmeal and juice before scurrying to Mod's first period history lecture. Not too much conversation flowed between the odd duo –the tall and optimistic new girl in a cheerleading uniform and the introverted quiet reader girl in simple, dark attire- but any awkwardness wasn't felt by Kori with nerves of the school/game day ahead and was ignored by Rachel who didn't usually address the subject of deepening friendships.

As they neared the classroom portion of the tower, a voice calling out stopped them both in their trek. Turning, Rachel gasped like a branch's gentle shimmer in an autumn breeze.

"Hey, Rachel," chimed Malchior with an easy smile and sparkling glacier-blue eyes.

"Hi," she uttered just as an unwanted blush tainted her pale cheeks.

"I will head on to class," Kori suggested when she figured out her roommate's silent requests to be alone with this boy. She couldn't help the smile that flittered over her features. True, Kori has only been at Titans Academy for a few days, but she already had a strong sense of the personalities of her friends, and Rachel taking interest in a boy was a fairly big deal, if Kori was to guess.

"What's with the smile, freak?"

Interrupting Kori's sunny mood was a medium height blonde girl. Her dyed locks contained a pink headband that drastically clashed with her JV cheer outfit. The skirt was pleated unlike the Varsity's, and the top was more shaped to resemble an athletic tank since there were no sleeves. The Titans logo was still imprinted on the top, but in a slightly more old fashioned lettering since it's the retired Varsity uniforms. Kori recalled this girl from some classes they have together, but her name was lost at the moment.

"Excuse me?" Kori pardoned with a surprised tone.

"Why are you so smiley?" inquired again the person in Kori's road to class.

"I am happy," Kori explained as if it were obvious –since it was.

"Why? Any special plans to make you grin?"

_This girl sure did not mind invading private business,_ Kori mused silently before responding in an even tone. "Yes, I do have weekend plans, but that is not why I am happy if you must know."

"If they're with Richard, you better get out while you're ahead, and cut the plans out of your schedule," advised the girl with a snarl and popped hip as if nearly bored with this conversation.

"I was not aware that you were in charge of my itinerary," snipped Kori as she shifted her weight to one hip as well, giving her body language some attitude.

"I may not be," continued the snarky girl, "but I am in charge of mine and anything that could hinder my plans."

"I am not following," confessed Kori, allowing her confusion to be evident to the opponent.

"Wouldn't have expected you to, alien," barked the girl. "Let me try to put this in as simple terms as possible: Richard is mine."

"He is not mine ei-"

She carried on as if Kori wasn't even there. "You two have hung out a lot in your short –_temporary_\- time here at Titans, and it's sweet of him to take in the unwanted orphaned freak, but he's going to lose interest faster than a puppy with a new toy. Because that's all you are to him: a new toy to try to hide or show off to the press. You're not suited for either his private life or celebrity one," she dragged the back of her hand under her chin in faux glamour pose, but immediately yanked it to mildly backhand Kori's shoulder as she bitterly continued. "So get out now and allow someone who's more suited take your pathetic place. _I_ am the reason why this school shines. I'm Titans Academy golden girl, the queen of the class, the sweetheart of the sophomores. Take your pick, but however you say it, it still means one thing."

"What is that?"

"You're not _her_," enunciated the girl. "And you're also not the girl who Richard is dating, let alone should be hanging out with. You're a foreign freak who doesn't belong at this school or in this country. You'll only bring down all that Richard has worked for, so do yourself a favor and get out of my way," the wicked demanded.

Just as Kori opened her mouth to respond –she didn't know how, but she knew she must stick up for herself- the bell that signaled one minute till class rang and blocked Kori's chance at defense as the snake scampered into Mod's room.

Kitten was her name; it finally resonated with Kori as she tried to contain her welling eyes. And Kitten, however awful she be with her words, had on the correct cheer shoes, Kori noticed.

"I wouldn't believe her if I were you," jumped in a new voice. Kori turned to take in a tall boy with a skin tone that resembled oak bark before it was sanded. His eyes cradled the faintest of scarlet hues peeking throughout his chocolate irises that matched his tousled dark locks.

"And what makes you say that?" Kori asked, avoiding his eyes in case he could see the weakness of tears welling up in her emerald orbs.

"I have the reputation of being on the wrong side of the tracks, even though those who judge me for that don't even know who I am. I'm Xavier Red, we bumped into each other the other day," he introduced, but didn't offer a hand to shake or a smile to break the ice. "And I've heard what she just said to you be thrown at me. Somehow, words like that makes them feel better about living in this fancy school in this classy city. Don't worry, not all of them are like that."

"But the ones who _are_ like that are louder than the ones who welcome you, typically," Kori stated, eyes still solidly fixated on the tile.

Xavier nodded in understanding, but continued, "Don't let Kitten's five minutes of hate overshadow the week of kindness shown to you."

"But how am I to know which side is true for how I am received here at this school?" meekly, she inquired the oddly wise teenager.

"You'll know," he reassured. "Truth isn't feeling or emotion, it's fact. And fact is: Titans Academy is a school for everybody, and that includes you."

"That is very kind to claim," Kori commented, braving a quick glance at him before looking back on the ground to hide her wobbly mouth and teary eyes.

"Here," Xavier began after he saw she wasn't believing in his advice. "I'll let you in on a secret of mine that helped me when I've had tough times fitting in: what they don't know or realize is that what they do or say don't affect who I am," Xavier stated as he crossed his arms in a firm stance to emphasize his declaration. "I'm me no matter the output of others."

"That is easy to say if one is able to ignore the hateful remarks," retaliated Kori, glancing at him out of the side of her eyes.

"I don't necessarily ignore them," Xavier said. "But I fight for me. I take their words and use them as stepping-stones for me to get better. Besides I know what they say isn't true, so why listen?"

"Some people are haunted by the opinions of others to the point where self opinion, or fighting for yourself, is a fantasy," deeply and sadly, Kori remarked more of to herself than to Xavier. The late bell rang, stopping their conversation. She steeled her gaze to the floor once more and continued her route to history –not looking back or even up to notice if anyone was left in the hallway.

* * *

Towards the end of first hour in history class, Mr. Mod allowed the students to rendezvous with their groups for their projects due in a few weeks.

"Why aren't you wearing my jersey?" Roy inquired to Jade as they shuffled to be with the other group members. He might be over thinking it, but he got the impression that Jade was avoiding him since he brought up the game over lunch Wednesday. "I left it with your roommate a few nights ago to give it to you. Did she?" He had been meaning to give it to her in person if she'd wear it, but Jade had a dance thing that afternoon until the evening, and then Oliver called last night and the talk took longer than Roy initially expected.

"Yeah," Jade offhandedly replied, swiping her ink-hued hair behind her small ears. "Yeah, she did."

"So…?"

"So, what?"

"Why aren't you wearing it, then?" Roy pushed in a hushed tone so the whole class wouldn't hear their discussion.

"I don't know, it just seemed kind of cheesy," explained Jade, putting away her notebook in her bag and conveniently avoiding eye contact.

Roy dropped his hand on her book still on her desk and looked her square in the eyes. "It's more than that, isn't it?"

"Please," she scoffed, pushing the subject aside. "Let's focus on our history project."

"Are _we_ history?" Roy continued.

"We hardly have a paragraph in our books, Arrow Boy," she reminded him with a reprimanding tone.

"But in that paragraph is a deal we both agreed to," he hissed.

"I know, I know," replied Jade with closed eyes as if closing off reality and this conversation. "It's just… I don't know, wearing your jersey kind of makes it official, doesn't it? Like, even more so than lunches eaten by one another or hanging out together. There's no going back after I put that on, and we can't change our minds about this, about us."

Roy shifted his sitting position to face Jade fully as he inquired, "You still want that university, right?" Jade nodded in response. "And I still want this to work for the both of us to be happy and follow our dreams, and together we can do that so much better than apart. I'm still willing to devote my high school time to you, Jade. I'm willing to go through with this," declared Roy in a much more sincere tone than Jade would have thought a friend would have stated that in. "The remaining question, then, is: Jade, are you willing to fight for what you want, for what you dream, even if it costs you one relationship with Roy Harper? Even if it costs you some time in a football jersey supporting him?" Roy asked, holding his breath for her answer. He didn't realize that in his speech, he had grabbed her small hand that was dry from her constantly chalking her dance shoes.

Jade took this moment to take in Roy Harper and all that he was composed of. He was a tall and lean boy, who was devoted to sports and his friends, but also from the snob side of society. His light reddish brown hair was buzzed close to his head and stood out from his fair skin tone that possessed a light sprinkling of cinnamon freckles on his forehead, nose, and arms. Light brown eyes above a nose that was long and narrow with thin lips below completed his face. He wore the home jersey for the Titans meaning a black jersey, yellow numbering, and white outlines around the numerals –his number being 55. The guy was generous, obviously with his deal for her at becoming greater than her past, and he was good at holding secrets so far, but what else was there to Roy Nathaniel Harper, adopted son and heir to Oliver Queen? Jade wasn't sure if she did or didn't want to know the answer to that inquiry.

In response, though, to Roy's question, Jade smiled, in an almost sad way, at the ginger. She then turned in her chair to lean down, and out of her bag came a slightly wrinkled football jersey –the Titans Academy away jersey since the gridiron guardians donned the home ones for tonight- with the numbers 55 imprinted in yellow with black outline on the white uniform. Jade handed him the jersey, ignoring his surprised expression, and gloated for a moment at how she was in control. She released a light laugh, and removed her jade green jacket to slip the jersey over her tank top. After she fluffed her long hair from being tucked in the collar, she turned and smiled again at the boy whose outfit now matched hers.

"I'm willing to fight for my dream, Roy Harper," she stated, but then giggled and added in a teasing manner. "Even if you're a part of the deal."

* * *

The morning was dragging by for all students at Titans as the Friday sun slowly slugged upward in the blue dome that promised a beautiful autumn setting for the game later in the evening. First hour history was boring, as normal in Richard's opinion, and the lecture in biology for second period was even slower than the typical rant from the instructor. Professor Chang was currently ranting about tanning beds and why they're horrible or something. He groaned to himself and slumped in his seat –restraining the urge to bang his head on the desk. Richard received a kick from behind and knew it was Trenten honing in on his parental personality and attempting to keep Richard perky for the lecture. Reluctantly, he shimmied to a posture that would get his back out of Trenten's kicking range and lowered his forehead on his stack of unopened textbooks on the desk's surface.

Eyes closed, he could nearly fall asleep, but knew that was a bad idea since Professor Chang would surely dump more homework in retaliation; thus, he allowed his mind to meander through his morning. He woke up a little later than normal –he attributed that to the sated week of showing Kori around, which was great, but also pushed his homework to the early morning side of midnight's stroke as well.

After throwing on a gray t-shirt that had the Titans logo on the front and crest boldly embedded across the back, Richard was ultimately ready for the day as soon as he quickly scattered gel in his jet black locks. He held small amounts of remorse for not being able to don a football jersey since he wasn't on the team, but he didn't love the gridiron as much as he was devoted to the courts for basketball or baseball field. Sure, he was naturally athletically talented, so he could toss the old pigskin around and tackle an opponent too, but his abilities were prominent in other sports. Plus, Bruce asked for Richard to be involved in school, but also available for him to call upon for events and functions; Richard opted for the fall to be open to Bruce, but making the winter and spring solely his own.

Dressed, hair styled, and ready to go, he left to hammer fist on his suitemate's door only to find Gar awake and giggling at his phone –something about a stick- and Vic was showered and wearing his sleek, black Titans football jersey to honor the home game that day. Gar always went all out on game days for school pride; hence his yellow and black streaks on his face, black running shorts, white Titans shirt, yellow tube socks with hand drawn T's, and black sandals.

Richard rolled his eyes at the sight and left with Vic and Gar to hit the cafeteria for a quick bite to eat. They joked and gave light-hearted conversation to one another on their way to the dining area. Vic threatened to ruin Richard's spiked hair with an infamous Stone Headlock if the shorter suitemate didn't let the football beef have the waffle machine.

To himself in attempted comfort, Richard mumbled that he was more in the mood for eggs anyway. Gar didn't bother to hide his disgust at Vic's admiration of bacon and Richard's amount of eggs he scooped onto his plate; Gar, beginning vegan, literally hugged his tofu and bundle of bananas. Vic chuckled and jabbed Richard in the side with an expression that said, "Watch this". And he did. He watched the daring football player bump a few buttons and screws on the waffle machine that was in the line of sight of a fellow student. Gooey and chocolaty batter for chocolate chip waffles splattered on the crisp jersey of Atlas Keith. Immediately, Vic and Richard snagged Gar by the collar and insisted on breakfast on-the-go as they scampered away hardly able to withhold an outburst of cackles at both Vic's stupid bravery and Atlas's stupid expression.

Fading himself out of the morning memory and back to the present in Chang's biology class, Richard shifted his head to glance at the clock and see that he still had over twenty minutes until the class period released them to third hour. He sighed and rolled back to his comfortable daydreaming position –ignoring the probable frown from Trenten whom had every word of the lecture written down and logged away in his head that's usually in a swim cap.

With breakfast swallowed on the stairwell, Vic hurried away to catch a few minutes of talking with Sara while Richard hustled down the stairs to get his preferred seat in Mod's and hopefully catch Kori as well. _Catch Kori indeed_, thought Richard when he sauntered the final few steps of the hall that lead to Mod's. He didn't hear all that Kitten spat at Kori, but it certainly wasn't cheer uniform complimenting he presumed. Then, after he dumped his bag in his chair and when Kori still hadn't walked into the room, he ventured back into the hall to see her and Xavier Red conversing quite deeply with Kori looking troubled.

Before he could say anything, the late bell rang and Kori whipped around from Xavier, focused on the floor, and zipped inside the classroom. Richard wasn't sure how invisible he was for Kori didn't pay him any mind and Xavier didn't seem aware of his presence either.

"Your kingdom won't last forever, Grayson," suddenly, Xavier stated, eyeing the other boy out of the corner of his eye.

_Apparently Red __was__ aware,_ Richard silently noted. "Please, I'm no ruler here," scoffed Richard.

Just then a teacher on hall monitor duty was passing by the boys. "Mr. Red, I think you should be in your first hour or else a tardy slip could come your way."

"We'll be sure to go, Mrs. Mae," reassured Richard in a charming tone. "We were just catching up."

"Oh, Richard, aren't you a sweetie to your little pals," she chimed. "Are you getting excited for basketball season?"

"For sure, but I'm happy to watch my friends play football, too," he answered honestly.

"Such a great support system you are to each other," Mrs. Mae gushed. "What a blessing you are to them. Oh, look at me chatting away, let me write you a note to be excused for your tardiness; just don't let it be habit."

"It' won't be," Richard and Xavier both answered. Mrs. Mae glanced up at the second voice and appeared startled as if she forgot that Xavier was standing right there.

"Get on to class now," she ordered, but then added with a smile, "and have a great Friday!"

As Mrs. Mae fluttered down the echoing hall, Richard turned back to Xavier who had a look of disbelief on his face.

"What?"

"Don't be so humble," Xavier said in an accusing tone. "Everything works out for your good and in your favor. Crevices of this town, of this school are filled by your existence. All the teachers have everything work our for you, for you their precious Richard whose father is the biggest school donor."

"He's not my father," Richard harshly corrected, "and don't think me so highly just because my bank account has a comma." He scrunched his face and crossed his arms before his front at Xavier, but he didn't seem fazed by it.

"I don't think you highly, kid," commented Xavier. "And even if I did, it would not be because you presume you have more money than I do. But I'm talking on a different matter entirely."

"Pray enlighten me," Richard with dripping sarcasm off his quipped words said.

"You aren't the only one in the race," stated Xavier.

"The race for what?" eyes narrowed, Richard demanded. "Is this about Kori? She's been here a week. Let the girl breath, Xavier."

"That's not how things work around here and you know it, kid. Did you not just see what happened with that teacher? She was fawning at your every word and it was all because of who you come from and not who you are," Xavier continued as he started walking closer to Richard to shorten the gap between the two teenagers. "This hierarchy you have with Richard Grayson as the king, I'm not a threat to your school. I'm just looking out for number one."

"Are you just wanting Kori because you think I do and it's how you plan to take me down? To be 'number one?'" Richard asked in disbelief to the brunet.

"You said it, kid, not me," stated Xavier with hands up in defense.

Mr. Mod then strutted to the door of his classroom, stern expression engraved upon his facial features as he bellowed, "If you lousy Americans would like to have _any_ culture, then you wouldn't mind promptness and keeping your conversations to yourselves."

"Yes, sir," answered Xavier in instant good boy mode as he scampered off to his first class, leaving the wrath of Mod solely to Richard who heaved heavy shoulders, shoved Mrs. Mae's note into Mod's pale hands, and stomped into the history room of questioning gazes from the students about Richard's tardiness and conversation. He avoided the glances, but happened to snag Vic's face and by which Richard could tell the African American noticed the exchange in the hall and with whom it had been with.

This reminiscing of the morn caused Richard to currently frown upon reflecting over it. What all did Xavier mean by Richard being on the top, or going after Kori? And did Richard mean what he said about wanting Kori? Wanting her as what? This train of thought was blessedly interrupted with the bell ending second period as Richard threw his books in his bag and skidded out of science to head to third hour mechanics in speeds Wally would be proud of.

* * *

"Do you have a moment?"

Vic twisted his head out from under his Cy-car to see the inquirer be Sara Sims in her Varsity cheer getup that somehow looked better on her than it did to any of the other cheerleaders.

"Sure thing, little lady," he answered, a grin spreading over his brown face that gathered some sweat and grease from Mechanics class. He clamored up from the ground, which was a long ways away when you're 6'4", and yanked his rag from his back pocket to dab up his oil-blackened hands. "What's up?"

"I'm going to be honest," Sara said with a smile, "I know nothing about mechanics."

"Then you're in the right class," commentated Vic, grin still in tack, as he gestured to their atmosphere of third hour: mechanics, which they had together.

"Not if there's a test Monday over unit one," she retaliated, inclining her head so she could meet Vic in the eyes.

"Looks like you'll just have to fail, then," teased Vic, tossing his rag into the overflowing box of used cloths. He calmly weaved his forearms on top of one another in front of his chest as he commented, "Unless you get yourself a tutor."

"Unless I get myself a tutor," she repeated, light cerulean eyes bright. "I know you have a game this evening, and I have cheer, but would it be possible, at any point this weekend, to get together and cram for our assessment?" Sara suggested, attempting to appear casual about the invitation.

"I'm not going home this weekend, so I'll be around campus," he answered. "I'm sure we could work something out."

"Fabulous," she chimed before pivoting and strutting back to her assigned area of the garage.

Richard edged over and stood beside his suitemate, and quietly commented, "You're going to get yourself into trouble."

"Who? Me? Please, rich boy," brushed off Vic before craning his head to the side to look at Richard.

"You're in dangerous waters, Vic," advised Richard.

"What? Like you're not?" Vic answered. "As if mingling with the new girl isn't touching the dirt of a minefield enough; Xavier Red has eyes on her as well."

"Yeah, and so does Jeremy Franc and Leo Kovar, and the rest of the male student body of Titans Academy," claimed Richard. "Someone has to win, and I don't plan on losing."

"Neither do I," Vic commented, thoughts of competition on a different girl entirely.

"We're just friends, Kori and I are," clarified Richard, eyes narrowed.

"Sara and I are just friends, too," Vic replied.

"And what about Atlas, Sara's _boyfriend_? Is he going to join your study session?" sniped Richard realistically as he leaned against the car's hood.

"He's not in this class, man. Lay off," Vic grumbled as he stiffly moved a few feet away from Richard and his accusations.

Richard quietly mumbled, "Just because Atlas isn't in this class doesn't mean Sara's single in it."

"We are _just_ friends," he insisted to his nosy suitemate.

"Okay, okay," sarcastically replied Richard with surrendered hands. "And where does Karen fit in, then?"

"Ha!" chortled Vic. "Karen? Karen Beecher? As if we could even be in the same room together, let alone be in a relationship. Dude, you're way off there."

The bell ceased conversation as the duo gathered their bags.

"All I'm saying," continued Richard briefly, "is that the way you're talking about Karen Beecher now is different than the way you talk to her after practice or in the cafeteria."

"What's that suppose to mean, man?" Vic grumbled, ticked his friends couldn't let him live his life. "And I hardly think you're the one to talk, Mr. Socialite one weekend and pretend-humble student the next. Pick a life," snapped Vic.

"I-I don't do that, though," insisted Richard. "Vic, I'm not a two-faced snob."

"Hey, man, I'm on your side," Vic answered, shrugging his bag on his shoulder. "Not everyone is, however."

"What? Like who?"

"The guy who wants to make you number two in a certain new girl's eyes," commented Vic as he left the room for fourth period.

Richard released a quick shout of frustration as the thoughts roaring in his head rivaled a hurricane's ferocity._ Vic is just mad because I called him out on his mixed emotions to two girls, _concluded Richard._ I'm not in a competition against Xavier, and I'm not a king of this school. I'm a __normal__ teen at a __normal__ high school. _But even he, though, didn't believe that thought.

* * *

During free period, Coach called a last minute meeting for the football players who were childishly plopped on the gym floor as the coach marched before them as he ranted about stats and positions and being there for your teammates.

"I need you to be there for blocking, or running, or whatever, but that is for the bigger picture which is being there for your teammate. I don't want to see sportsmanship on the field," stated the coach, earning some confused glances from the players. "I want you guys to have such high quality of sportsmanship in your daily lives so when you're on that field, you have no option, no other character trait, no other way than to treat your teammates, your coach, the ref, and the opposing team with respect, mercy, and humility. And to do this, we are going to do team bonding drills this Saturday afternoon."

Groans began to surface from the team, but quickly ceased when the coach glared at the students who clamored to their feet and huddled in a mass for a dismissive team chant.

Soon after his speech, the coach released the team to continue with their day. Vic's head was spinning with Coach's encouragement and the hype of the game. The only way his mood could be dampened would be if –

"Bowling ball head, come'ere," ordered none other than Atlas Champion Keith, senior, quarterback, intimidating, and dating Sara.

"The name's Stone, Atlas," responded Vic with a frown. He was on his way to his car to check the dish for spare change to purchase a soda from the machine.

"That's accurate enough since that's all what your bowling ball head is filled with," jeered Atlas, earning a few snickers from his sidekick Mick Canic, who goes by the nickname Spike.

"Weren't you at the meeting?" Vic pointed back to the gym with his thumb. "Didn't you just hear 'bout Coach said of treating your teammates with respect?"

"I don't see a teammate, I just see a slab of beef who can't score," Atlas continued to jibe.

"I don't need to prove myself to you," Vic stated.

"Or on the field to Coach or with girls, apparently," smirked Atlas.

Vic clenched his fist and knew to walk away or else he'd do or say something he'd regret, especially since they were in the garage portion of the school and a fight could easily brew among the cement and cars. Vic tried to keep his head about him, but Atlas kept throwing junk at him.

"Do you think it's cool to be on the JV team, Vicky? How are you even on there with your low-dump grades that make your momma cry herself to sleep? Do you even have a mom with how you act when there's a cow in sight? Maybe that's her; your mom's a cow which is why you love beef so much!"

"I bet she can't stand to look at that hideous face so she sent him to this boarding school," added Spike with a smirk and a quick glance at Atlas for approval, but the older and larger male was preoccupied with tormenting Vic.

"What are you going to do about it, cow boy? Are you ever going to amount to much? No," Atlas answered for him. "Because you'll never amount to anything in this world because you're not willing to go beyond 100% to be a champion since you can't commit, you can't go all the way."

"You see that's where we're different," Vic's anger steamed. "I don't have to give 100% to be better than everyone else, because I already am. And you have no say in the matter because it's your girlfriend that's been talking to me and I've gave hardly any effort, and yet _she's_ the one wanting to spend time with me." Instantly –naturally- he regretted his cocky statement that made him sound like he was trying to steal another guy's girl. And clearly, he and Sara were more than he thought they were if he's bringing it up to her boyfriend who obviously didn't pick up on this friendship.

"I will end you, Stone," Atlas declared through gritted teeth.

"Is that a threat, Keith?" Vic countered as he and Atlas stood in fight-mode stances inches from each other.

"A promise, Stone. That's a promise." Atlas spat on Vic's sneakers and pivoted to march out of the vicinity of Vic with Spike trailing behind him like a puppy.

"Yo! Why'd you even want to talk to me?" Vic asked Atlas's retreating figure as he tried to recall why they began taunting each other in the first place.

"To remind you of your place, and get a head start on my promise," cackled Atlas as he and Spike shot up from the garage in the elevator. It was then when Vic examined his car; he decided with chagrin that Atlas knew it was he who spoiled breakfast a few hours earlier. This was revealed to Vic since harsh accusations and waffle graffiti images were permanently painted all over the otherwise flawless windows of his Cy-car.

* * *

For the second time that day, Karen Beecher watched one of her friends walk into class late. First period, Richard had come in tardy from a chat with Xavier Red –nothing but trouble brewed from that scenario. And as fifth period's late bell rang throughout the T tower moments ago, in stomped Vic with a gnarly scowl on his brown face. Normally, Karen would try her best to solely focus on the lecture, especially since it currently was science and Professor Chang ranted about biology faster than Wally's sprints on the track, but something told her to peep over at the tardy brute to her left.

Quietly, she uncrossed her goose bump-chilled legs due to the high air conditioning and low material application to the cheer skirts, and promptly, yet quietly, kicked Vic's shin. At the sudden thump on his leg, Vic whipped his head up from his seething, lost thoughts, and glared at the attacker. She gave him a look that demanded an explanation, but he tossed his head sideways and slumped in his desk. She could be wrong –although Karen Beech hardly ever erred- but he looked defeated and quite troubled.

Immediately as Chang dismissed the lecture with the bell, Karen yanked Vic's arm and practically threw him in the closest nook to the biology classroom. "Explain yourself," she demanded, hands on her hips and frown covering her face.

"For such a little lady, you sure can lug some weight around," commented Vic as he sat up from his disheveled position Karen literally tossed him into.

"Athletes lift weights; cheerleaders lift athletes," she explained in a dismissive tone. "Now, Vic Stone, explain yourself," she reordered as she inched closer, somehow increasing her intimidation with the distance between the two decreasing.

"Explain what?" Vic snapped.

"Oh, I don't know, your tardiness for one, and your bad attitude could be another," Karen barked.

"Mind your business, Bee," grunted Vic as stood up from the couch.

"We both know that that's not going to happen, Sparky," Karen stated. "So, save us both the time and spit it out."

He sighed and rolled his eyes at her stubbornness. "You're bossy."

"Of course, now get to it and we might make it to sixth period before the bell rings."

"My Cy-car is trashed," Vic explained as he pulled out his phone and showed Karen the pictures he took. Her eyes enlarged at seeing the damage.

"Oh, my- what happened? Who did this?"

"Atlas," huffed Vic as he pocketed the cellular.

"Why?" Karen dared to ask despite her fears of what the explanation may be.

"I stained his football jersey with waffle batter this morning…" reluctantly Vic confessed, earning an impatient hit on his shoulder from the girl who was personally relieved the reason wasn't because Atlas suspected how close his girlfriend was to another guy.

"Are you an idiot? Do you have a death wish? Why did you do that?" unloaded Karen to Vic.

"Ow, I don't know." He rubbed the sore spot from her small, but powerful palm.

"Well, you need to figure out what possessed you to entangle yourself with Atlas before it escalates to something that can't be easily fixed," advised Karen.

"What do you mean 'easily fixed' –that was normal spray paint, not window chalk," Vic snapped.

Karen rolled her eyes in boredom. "Honestly, Sparky, do you doubt my know-how and abilities? I thought we knew each other better than that." With that statement, she patted his shoulder. "Sorry I hit you so hard, and I really am sorry about your car." She pivoted and purposefully marched out of the nook as the minute-to-late bell rang, leaving Vic with confusion and a sensitive shoulder.

* * *

Blessedly, Sifu Brushogun was a pretty chill teacher; thus, he allowed chitchat among the students as they worked on their art pieces. Currently, the assignment was pointillism. Wally was aimlessly strolling around the art room, searching for inspiration. Not to sketch and add dots to, of course, but to strike up a conversation with Jin Hex who was hunched over her sketchbook by the window. He huffed out a breath that billowed his fierce red locks from his forehead. Then, an idea hit him. Coolly, he sauntered to the window and cleared his voice.

Nothing. She didn't even blink his way.

He coughed into his fist.

Again, no sign of Jin registering Wally's presence. Courage depleting, he turned to leave, but then noticed she had ear buds linking to her phone beside her; she was in her own world with the music. He grinned; hope renewed, Wally approached her once more with purposeful steps and a slight wave to help gain her attention. This was caught on her radar, causing her to snap her head up and slam the sketchbook shut and press it desperately to her chest.

"What do you want?" she demanded, ear buds still in so she said it a bit loud.

"Just wanting to get some air flow in here, so I'm going to open the window," Wally replied with a smile.

"Then open that one," she suggested and jerked her head to the window right beside her.

"Ah, right…" He moved to grab the lock and jostled it to sing open the pane.

"Wally, what are you doing?" questioned the teacher.

"Opening the window?"

"Didn't you read the sign?" Sifu Brushogun pressed.

"Wh- oh." Wally glanced to the wall beside the windows that held a clear sign saying that the windows can't be opened until the hinges are fixed. Embarrassed and with a blushing face rivaling his hair, he took his seat with the idea to sketch a building with windows sealed shut for his pointillism piece.

* * *

As the day dragged on, it finally hit the last bell for the week, signaling freedom. After a brief snack of chips and dip in the longue area, Kori and Rachel stayed to chat with Kole who was waiting for Clay to finish his next batch of salsa to take to the swim team. Richard, Vic, and Gar raced ahead of Kori and Rachel so they could spiff up their room. For the past school week, the four showed Kori various places on campus, but put off showing her the boys' dorm since they all knew it was a disaster area and needed some time logged into cleaning it –which they didn't get to until five minutes prior. All five were were now crammed in the front foyer of the boys' dorm, urging Kori to question the décor.

"And why is this wall blank?"

"Each of us get a wall," explained Gar. "Mine is the bathroom door wall." He pointed to the opposite one they stood before. The wall had jokes written in cramped handwriting on notebook paper taped around the frame leading to the bathroom. Rachel noticed that all the lines he has used on her in effort to laugh are taped to the wall.

"I have the dorm wall," Vic continued, nodding his head to their left where a few license plates from various states were arranged in a streamlined fashion.

"And mine," him implying the wall with a postcard-sized image of an MMA fighter, a simple quote 'Do Good' typed on computer paper, "is the wall with the front door," Richard finished explaining.

"But that leaves this large wall of nothing for nobody, then," Kori wondered.

"We have plans for it," hinted Vic as he dropped a brotherly hand on her shoulder.

"That's the end of the tour, Miss Anders," Gar announced in an attempted French accent as he bowed and kissed her hand. She giggled and covered her mouth with her other hand.

"Gar, you are so fun-"

"Don't!" proclaimed Rachel, Richard, and Vic simultaneously.

"Don't encourage him," muttered Rachel to Kori in a low tone.

"Aw, c'mon, guys! I'm way funny!" Gar defended with large, begging eyes of forest green.

"He looks like a kitten when he does that," sympathized Kori with a small grin. Immediately Gar, squatted and made a meow noise at her comment and hugged her ankles. "Awww," she cooed, being won over to the side of thinking he was humorous, and patted his wild head of hair.

"You don't want to go down that road, little missy," Vic advised as he slung an arm over her shoulders and dragged her out of the foyer and into the hallway. Kori laughed and swung out of his grasp, but he caught her hand and they began to clumsily waltz in the hallway.

"C'mon, Rae," encouraged Gar as he grabbed Rachel's unsuspecting arm and led her to the hall, but she wrested herself out of his lose hold.

"I'll save you, Rachel," Richard declared in a faux deep voice as he swept in and began twirling her around mimicking Vic and Kori's moves. Gar slipped out his phone and found a song that didn't match their steps in anyway at all, but it made it all the better somehow. He glanced up from hitting play and saw Karen walking towards them with her textbooks in tow.

"What is going on?" she inquired, peering questioningly at the pairs.

"Karen, join us!" Gar commanded as he extended his arm in invitation to the sophomore class president. Without her okay, he stole her books and placed them on the ground, dropped his phone on top, and protruded his hand to her once more, which she actually hooked onto in a hesitant but happy manner.

The three pairs twirled silly circles around each other, Vic able to outshine them all since he could easily lift Kori in the air on fun spurts of the song. Kori landed and he spun her on his arm, then recoiled and pulled her back in. He flung his arm for her to spin but their grip on each other loosened and she pivoted away from him and tumbled beside Rachel and Richard.

Quickly, but not gracefully, Richard caught her arm to stop her possible fall. When she straightened, her fiery red hair was tangled with their dancing, but it still looked magnificent. She smiled and exhaled as if preparing to thank him, but before she could, Richard knew he wanted a chance to dance with her.

"Switch partners," he commanded in a low tone as he too breathed out and took in Kori's eyes. Karen jumped over to Vic and began to one up him on dancing solo but beside each other, and Rachel ended up in Gar's left arm.

"We meet again," he teased, pretending to use a pencil like a rose in the mouth. She rolled her eyes and took the lead despite Gar being the boy.

Kori kept her eyes on her feet in fear of stomping on Richard's toes for the third time in their swaying and twirling. "I am sorry, I do not know the steps."

Elegantly and precisely with many years or dance practice due to hours of socialite parties, Richard avoided another misstep of Kori's as he responded, "It's not about the right steps, but more about the right partner," smoothly he encouraged. Richard's smile was then rewarded with a blush and small grin from Kori.

"Unfortunately, your partner is a clumsy _blumgoff_," she answered.

"I think my partner is just right with who she is," Richard responded.

Blushing, Kori ducked at the praise, and tried to change the subject. "So, tell me what I might expect at the game of ball and foot this evening."

Richard chuckled at her rickety English. "At the football game tonight? Well, first off, we have to go to the mainland of Jump City since the football field on campus is just a practice field. We have a stadium in the city that has sweet seating and plenty of space for the cheerleaders where you'll be," commented Richard, smiling as he was mentally being whisked away by the memories of Friday night lights from the few times he visited with Bruce the last few seasons. "There'll be lots of people, some for our team and some for the other team. There'll be food, drinks, and lots of black and gold and school spirit. Usually, afterwards, we head to a diner for a burger or milkshake before crashing back at the dorms or home if you're close enough."

"I won't be able to go home for a long while," quietly commented Kori, not fully registering she spoke the sad statement aloud.

He bit his lip, wanting to pry and inquire, but still felt it was not the time or place to be doing so; thus, he hoped to get her mind off of it by asking, "Do you think you'll attend the Homecoming dance?"

"What is that?"

The question took Richard by surprise and he didn't think to filter his thoughts as he asked in bewilderment: "You don't know what Homecoming is?"

Once again embarrassed, Kori bowed her head and watched her feet without making a comment for a few beats before inquiring, "Is it when you come home?"

"It's more like a big celebration of the school with spirit days and pep rallies and sporting events," explained Richard.

"So like a birthday party?"

"Not really, just a good excuse to have fun together, I guess," Richard fished for the proper explanation, but was lost since he hasn't personally attended a homecoming as a student. Bruce has brought him to a few to make special appearances or ride a float in a parade, but never really participated completely in one. It'd be a learning experience for both he and Kori. Richard glanced to his right to see Gar babbling on and on about some animal quirk to Rachel who looked ready to sprint for the nearest library for solitude. He chuckled to himself and continued swaying with Kori and tried to ignore the possible argument rising from the pair on his left.

"What brings you to my part of the tower?" Vic curiously asked the tall, dark skinned girl beside him. "I thought you were mad at me."

"The world doesn't revolve around you, Sparky, I'll have you know. I can venture on over to whatever part of this school I may please," Karen declared. She paused for a brief moment in her speech as she tossed her hair and continued. "However, we need to go over political terms for history since the test is coming up next week, I'm lending you my notes for biology from this morning, and I'm proofreading your slides for computers since my class did the project already and I know what Mr. Overload is looking for, remember?" Karen stated in an orderly fashion.

"Whoa, little lady," eased Vic with raised eyebrows. "Don't you ever do anything besides schoolwork?" He opened his arm for her to join him so they could actually dance as partners and not simply sway beside each other.

"I'm focused on my schooling," she said, brushing off both the subject and his arm offer.

"You need to take a break sometime, Bee, or else you'll burn out," advised Vic, giving his arm to her once more.

"There's not a man alive that can tell me what to do," Karen stated firmly as she shoved his invitation to dance a second time. "And that includes you, Vic Stone."

"But are you listenin' to yourself in the process of disregardin' all other opinions?" he retaliated in an honesty wallop.

She didn't respond, but merely peered up at him with her dark hazel eyes. Neither a frown or a smile accompanied the look, which would normally set Vic on edge, but it somehow reassured him that she was considering his advice without feeling defeated on her own self.

"I'm not mad at you," she finally blurted, answering his question from prior. "I never was."

In silence, he protruded his large brown hand to Karen once more, a third and final offer.

Hesitantly, even more so than when she accepted Gar's invitation to dance, she delicately dropped her hand on Vic's, and they, too, were finally doing a tittering waltz alongside the others as the song finished the bridge and entered into the final chorus.

"Sparky, can I give you advice on something, then, since you're in such a Yoda-wisdom mood?" Karen chimed after a few beats of them not speaking, but in a non-awkward atmosphere.

"Shoot," answered Vic with his easy and broad smile, confidant in whatever her question would be.

"Sara is dating someone, and that someone is not you," bluntly, Karen stated.

Vic's smiled dropped and their steps slowed as her hand fell out of his. "I know that."

"Do you? Because you talk to her the way any guy would in trying to woo a girl."

"I wasn't aware that you were my friend monitor," sniped Vic, grabbing her fallen hand once more, but his light-heartedness on the subject dissipated.

"I'm not," Karen snipped sternly. "But if it concerns my roommate, I have the right to protect. Are you interested in Sara for Sara's sake? Or because she'll make your touchdowns more glamorous?" brutally, interrogated Karen. "Or are you interested because she's taken, and that means off limits, but you want to see if 'the great Vic Stone' can get the impossible? Be honest, Vic. If not with me out loud, at least with yourself. I don't want unnecessary heartache and broken friendships to come of this," quietly, Karen stated.

"I don't get hurt when it comes to relationships, Beecher," Vic said. Karen jolted at his use of her last name –the way they addressed each other weeks ago when they could hardly stand each other. "Or in any matter, really. I'm a Stone, and we're tough. Besides, I don't need Miss Busy-Bee to mother me."

"Vic, I want you to think long and hard about why you like Sara and if the reasons don't go beyond skin deep or your inner competitive jive against Atlas, then you need to rethink that situation before it progresses," she demanded, tone no-nonsense. "Because you both are seeing this situation in different lights and I don't want a hurt roommate –I can't handle the crying and ice cream for weeks on end."

"You say that like you presume I'll lose," he accused with narrowed eyes at the girl.

Karen sighed. "I just know more of the story than you do. Sara's my roommate, classmate, and on my cheerleading squad, Vic," she explained. "She really, really likes being with Atlas. And he really, really doesn't like you being in the picture of Sara, let alone being involved in football."

"Oh, so now you're tryin' convince me to quit football, too?" Vic accused. Both were so absorbed in the conversation that they didn't notice a third person walking up to the scene of the three couples more-or-less waltzing to the finishing chords of a song.

"Don't be ridiculous," Karen responded with sass entering her tone. She flipped her hand at Vic's notion, which caused them to part and altogether stop dancing.

"Don't be the boss of me," dictated Vic.

"I'm not tryin' to be," Karen snipped, her patience evaporating with the football player.

"You always want to be the boss," accused Vic. "You always have to be in charge and correct something."

Karen narrowed her eyes and unintentionally raised herself a few inches by standing on her tiptoes. "I may strive for perfection in my work, but at least I know what I have before it's gone," she stated

"If you're try'na say I need to be more humble on the field, save your breath," huffed Vic. "I'm good at sports and I don't owe it to anybody to try to downplay that."

"You'll come off as a jerk if you don't ground yourself," Karen snipped, still elevated on her toes.

"Why should I care what people think of me? If they think I'm a jerk, then let 'em. I'm better off without them."

"What a meathead," uttered a new voice to the conversation.

"Couldn't agree with you more, Tommy," responded a familiar person. Vic and Karen whipped their heads to notice that they were so engrossed in arguing, a pair of students entered and stood a few feet away, Jin and a freshman boy. "Vic here, only cares for a few simple things: cars, football, and girls."

"Deep guy," sarcastically the boy, Tommy, quipped to Jin who stood with her hands placed firmly on her hips. "Even though he doesn't care how he treats girls, just how they look or make him feel," observed and crudely put Tommy.

"Yo, what's with this attack on me?" Vic interjected Jin and Tommy's verbal analysis of himself.

"What's with being a flirt?" snapped Jin.

"What are you talking about?" Vic demanded, frown cementing his usually easy-going smile.

"Monday, we talked in the hall and you said that you were more than a meathead who only cared about cars, sports, and girls. Then, you said you'd go out with me to prove that to be wrong. Yet, here you are, waltzing in the hallway with another girl who is not the one you promised a date."

"You what?!" cut in Karen in surprise, finally able to take in her surroundings after the stunning slam from Vic.

"Ew, a date with Jin? Gross," commentated Tommy.

"Whoa, slow down, little lady," eased Vic, ignoring the bewildered looks from both Karen and Tommy. "One, I thought us doing dinner sometime was me proving that I can do something nice for someone with no benefit to me," he ticked off the statement on his large, brown finger. Then, he held up a second as he continued, "And two, we never set a date for the date. Heck, we never even called it a date. Just an outing as friends!"

"Way to lead a girl on," sneered she.

"I'm sure you're utterly heartbroken," Vic commented in sarcasm.

"So the great barf brain Vic Stone is a player on the football field and girl scene," Tommy observed with a wicked grin on his boyish face.

"You have it all wrong," defended Vic.

"Vic, what are you doing?" the calmness of Karen reached to him through his steaming anger at the accusations from Jin and Tommy.

"I don't need to prove myself to you," Vic stated to Jin who raised her eyebrows at his declaration, but didn't immediately retaliate.

Tommy muttered, "Barf brain," before walking back from whence he came, and Jin turning to follow suit.

"Vic," she called back, arms cross in either boredom or protection, he couldn't tell, "hit me up when you want to fill out your end of the bargain." With that, she followed Tommy down the hall.

"Well, now that that's handled," gestured Karen to the two retreating figures, "want to tell me what it was about?"

"I meant what I said, Bee," Vic commented, smile yet to return to his face. "I don't need to prove myself to you."

Karen fell back a foot in surprise at his calm, but still harsh response. She swallowed her initial response and pushed on. "But what about proving to yourself how good of person you can be? You can be more than a guy who goes after a taken girl," Karen claimed with a wobbly smile.

Heat rose inside of Vic; from the morning with Atlas and the car, to Jin and Tommy's accusations, to his confusion with Sara and Karen, so he exploded and the shrapnel hit the nearest person: Karen.

"Quit tryin' to tell me what to do!" Vic said, voice rising. "Just because your parents are separating and your life is out of control, doesn't mean you should try to control other people's." The sentence was out before he registered the amount of spite loaded in each word. Karen confided in him and only him about her parents earlier this week, so why did he announce it to the entire hall? He took a few steps back and slid his eyes to floor, unable to observe the shocked expression on Karen's face that looked as if she was slapped. "I… I just meant…" He stopped himself short and sprinted down the hall, too frustrated to try to explain how he didn't mean, how he would never jeopardize someone's secrecy like he just did, how he doesn't know how to act around girls, and how he's awful at deep and meaningful friendships.

Silence and stillness settled upon the group that was just dancing moments prior to Vic's announcement. Unsure if they should approach Karen or not, they waited a few moments until finally Kori asked: "What was the matter with Vic?"

"Is everything okay?" Richard added in inquisition.

"No idea," Karen remarked, voice void of emotion and indication of whom she was answering.

"Aw, he just gets tense before games," eased Gar. "He's like a jack-in-the-box: tighter and tighter the closer it gets to launch time, and totally carefree afterwards. He'll be fine."

"That," Rachel commented with a look of surprise on her pale face, "was actually a pretty good analogy."

"Yeah? It was a good comparison, too," agreed Gar with a grin. Rachel rolled her eyes at his obliviousness, but didn't want to cinch his triumph either so kept quiet on her correction.

With her palm over her mouth, Kori leaned over and whispered to Rachel, "Isn't that the same thing?"

"Shh," Rachel nodded and pulled her jacket on tighter as she zipped it and threw the hood over her violet hair. "I'm going to go my room until the game. Karen can take you to where the cheerleaders get ready."

"Thanks, friend Rachel!" enthused Kori. She trailed after a mentally distant Karen as Rachel sauntered away for a bit of quiet time before the game. Gar and Richard remained in the hall with Gar's playlist surging on despite the ceased dancing.

"So… do you know what is brown and sticky?" cracked Gar in the quiet that claimed the hall with the parted girls. Richard smacked a hand on his forehead.

"Oh, BB," he uttered in wonderment at this odd friend before him.

* * *

The air was thick with school spirit, greasy tailgate food, and cheers for the players to enter the field. Beside Richard stood Gar completely painted black and gold along with Mardi Gras beads, a foam finger, and a large soda with a crazy straw –all in school colors, naturally. Rachel tailed behind them with Jin slightly to her side. Neither girl made plans together, but somehow silently communicated that they were each other's "person" for the night. They took a seat beside Richard and Gar in the bleachers that were finally cooling from the Indian summer's sun as kickoff at seven inched closer and closer. Behind them sat Trenten, Kole, and Clay who were munching on popcorn.

Nearby stood a frustrated Jade who discovered she lacked a group to sit with. Jin glanced up from her phone to see the medium height dancer who was in some of her classes. She also noticed how lost the girl looked. Inwardly, Jin grimaced and threw her hand up in the air and hollered, "Hey!"

Jade whipped towards the possible salvation. "Me?"

"Need a seat?"

"Are you offering?"

Jin shrugged and pointed to the spot beside her, "It's open." A smile broke across the girl's face as she did the awkward walk-in-front-of-and-try-not-to-trip-over shuffle through the students to get to Jin.

"Thanks," breathed Jade once she sat down. "I'm Jade Nguyen."

"Yeah, I recognize you from class. I'm Jin Hex," replied she with a nod. "This is Rachel Roth, Richard Grayson, and Gar Logan."

"Nice to meet you all," Jade greeted to the four who turned at their names and waved at the newcomer. "Thanks for letting me sit with you and your friends, Jin."

"No problem," Jin commented simply, ignoring the fact that Jade grouped those four as Jin's friends. Then, the two girls launched into chatter about anything and everything for the remainder of the game. Jin discovered Jade was dating and cheering for Roy Harper, number 55. Jade learned that Jin was trying to avoid social interactions with both Wally West and Seymour Isaacs. The two bonded, to Jin's chagrin. But she of the all people could cut off a friendship cord easily.

"So why avoid Wally?" Jade asked.

"Ah, I don't need to tie myself down," brushed off Jin.

"It's not marriage," laughed Jade.

"I'm not a date-around kind-of girl," Jin claimed, pursing her lips.

"Didn't I hear you were trying to score a date with Vic Stone, though?"

"It wasn't really a date, I guess. Just him trying to prove to me he can do something of no benefit for himself," explained Jin.

"Why would going out with you have no benefit for him?" Jade asked.

"He likes another girl so it could put him back a couple of steps in that chase, I guess," shrugged Jin in response.

"Hmm," she mused. "What girl? Karen Beecher?"

"I'm not sure, but probably. They were dancing in the hallway together when I came to talk to Vic this afternoon."

"Interesting," nodded Jade.

"What's interesting?" asked Toni as she leaned down from the bleacher above the pair.

"Who people date," vaguely covered Jade.

"I'll say," Toni agreed. "Tyson told me that he learned you and Roy Harper are dating?"

"Yep, we're official," answered Jade with a smile.

"Why?" Toni bluntly questioned.

"He…" Jade reflected over the past week of classes, inside jokes made, meals eaten together, homework ignored with one another, archery practices attended, and conversations that got to a relatively deep level like his push for her to fight for something. She thought of her decision to fight for her future and that meant this relationship. "He is more than a pretty face and wealthy family, and I want to get to know the real Roy Harper."

"So do you even like him, then?" Jin couldn't help herself but asking.

"Oddly enough, I do," smiled Jade. "I like talking to him and hanging out with him and having a friend. His calm nature compliments my more 'get to it' perspective, but it also helps motivate him as well. We balance each other. "

Toni cooed and then began to dish how many socialite events she saw Roy at this past summer, but Jin retracted from her on-the-edge-of-her-seat position she found herself in when Jade was talking about her relationship with Roy. Sure, Jin wasn't going to kid herself, it'd be great to actually build a dynamic with someone that didn't involve a double agent mission or clipping the connection because they were learning too much, but that was not the life meant for her apparently. Yet, she couldn't get the line "Talking to him and hanging out with him and having a friend… we balance each other" out of her head.

Slightly uncomfortable with the amount of people pressing in on her, Rachel glanced at her phone. A message from her mom asking her what she'd want to do for her sweet sixteenth that was coming up. Rachel suppressed a shudder at the thought. What her mother wasn't aware of was the price of turning sixteen.

Abruptly, in effort to shake her thoughts to anything else, she stood up and offered to go get some refreshment that the group heartily agreed to. Naturally, Richard seeing his friend get up to leave moved him to inquire about the exiting and then insisting on covering the cost. Rachel stared at the crisp twenty Richard plopped into her hand and pocketed it with frown, unsure of how she felt about charity.

"Enjoying the game?" a voice asked Rachel after she placed her order at the concession stand. She turned around to see Malchior in a simply gray tee and jeans with his signature gray beanie covering whitish-blond hair that swayed over his icicle irises. A strap around his neck with a camera attached and a bag slung over his shoulder were the only peculiars to his classic look.

"Enough," she coolly replied, brushing her escaping hair behind her ears. What happened to her bobby pins?

"Yeah, it's just against Steele City, so not too much competition," engaged Malchior with a smile as he stuff his hands in his jeans pockets.

"Atlas's passes have been to wide, causing many more unnecessary yards to run for the ball, but Vic has been more than making up for that. With Roy Harper's winning catches both make the win what it is, but with Atlas slugging, it's not what it could be," Rachel quickly answered. Immediately, she ducked her head and sucked in her cheeks to try to keep her facial temperature on a humane level. She went all wallflower-observant-geek on him and totally freaked him out for sure! She dared a glance up; surprised to see an amused smile with raised eyebrow features as well.

"Aren't you the secret all-star, Miss Roth?" he teased.

"Uh, no, just observant," she replied quietly.

"I think it's more than that," Malchior pushed in a soothing tone that made her feel like less of a criminal for exposing how much she knew about other people from watching. "The yearbook could use a girl with eyes like yours, you know." Her violet eyes reached his light blues ones at that comment, but quickly shook her head.

"Oh, that's not for me."

"Are you sure? I could pull some strings and arrange a trial thing for you," offered he.

"Let me think about it."

"Cool," he said, face relaxing into an easy smile. Just then her order was called and she shook herself to retrieve the concession goodies. "I'll catch you around, Rachel."

"See you later," she replied as she turned and added in a low mumble, "Malchior." Smile in check and drinks in hand, she returned to the busting bleachers for the second half of the game.

* * *

Kori perched on the edge of the area where the cheerleaders were planted before the crowd. The squad's formations were on point and yells loud and clear, but neither brought a real smile to cheer captain Karen's face as she called out which cheers to perform. Robotically, she went through the night, refusing advice or comments from the team. Kori took note of this odd behavior from her typically put-together peppy suitemate, but didn't comment on it either. Maybe this was how Karen acted on cheer nights?

The other members on the squad were friendly enough, but Kori could tell there was an invisible barrier between her and the team, but an even larger wall between the JV and Varsity squads. Labels and connections and hierarchy were very big at Titans Academy, Kori processed in her week there. However, the Great Wall of invisible barriers protruded between Kitten and any and all teammates, but especially Kori. The blonde girl did not take a liking to the newcomer. Not one bit.

"Nice shoes," sneered Kitten during a break of routines. Kori paused with her water bottle mid-route to refresh the newbie's thirst when Kitten's jeers reached her.

"I made the team so efficiently time-wise, there were not shoes in stock," Kori retaliated, a fire igniting in her being with Kitten's rude remarks piling the kindling on the spark. Xavier's words from this morning were hot on Kori's mind and she intended to let Kitten have a piece of it.

"Please," she scoffed. "We needed more diversity on the squad. You were a walk-on from day one."

Kori narrowed her emerald eyes at the snob, and commented with irritation and anger building, "Nothing in my life has been a walk-on and I do no plan on making this the first. Titans Academy is a place for everybody, including me and my skills that got me on the squad."

"You think you have what it takes to be a Titans Academy cheerleader?" Kitten spat. "We are in the top rankings of the nation; against huge public schools with squads of twenty plus athletes. We make due with our dozen or so, and pull off awards every season. We cheer long nights every week, have required pep for assemblies, rallies, and even class on a daily basis, perform routines impossible for the typical small school numbers, raise our own funds for uniforms, and maintain a high enough GPA to stay on the squad," rattled Kitten with on each point, a ferocious step enclosing on Kori.

"That is it?" Kori raised her eyebrows in combination of bewilderment and mockery. "I can handle your expectations, Kitten, and exceed them. Do not waste your time and energy wondering if I can keep up; for I will hold my own," Kori declared in a tone that opposed timidity, a tone that entitled her to a feeling of fighting for herself –similar to what Xavier was advising earlier today. "You should focus less on me and more on your footwork." She pivoted on her beloved white Vans with a determined turn and strut towards Karen, thus, ending the conversation with a mouth agape Kitten.

"Hey, you can go join the crowd for the rest of the game," commented Karen when Kori reached her friend. "Varsity just cheers the second half of the game, and even though you're on it, you can still go chill if you want."

"Thank you. I shall join Richard and friends, then," Kori replied distantly.

"What was that?" Karen inquired with an inclining head to gesture to the blonde with a twisted grimace on her face.

"Just a fellow teammate making sure I can handle the pressures of cheering," Kori replied in a nonchalant manner.

"Kitten being considerate? That'd be the day," Karen scoffed. "She was checking you out as prey. That girl loves drama and attention, but the one thing she adores more is making people fall to her feet to either grovel for her mercy or groan in agony at the social destruction she can inflict, when they don't bow," Karen commented with disgust entering her tone. The dislike the captain had for that team member was evident.

Kori glanced back at Kitten who was not doing an efficient job at cooling down from her and Kori's quick spat. She glanced back to Karen who was warning her as a friend; Kori nodded to indicate she was considering Karen's words. In return, Karen offered a quick, strained smile, and then marched to her water bottle. "However," Kori quietly murmured to herself as he friend retreated, "I bow to no one."

* * *

The halftime show just concluded and the players were trekking back onto the field to warm up in the remaining minutes before the last two quarters kicked off. As Vic walked out of the tunnel and back into the spotlights, he passed by the cheerleaders' section of the stadium and caught eyes with a departing Kori who gave him an encouraging smile and thumbs up. He waved back and then focused his eyes on the girl who was leaving her side: Karen. And she looked miffed and stiff. He didn't bother trying to catch her attention. She was involved in his life enough as it is. Then his eyes landed upon Sara who gave him an expansive grin and holler of "You're looing great out there!" He was about to call back a "thanks," but was cut off by a harsh jostling to his shoulder. Atlas stomped past the herd of football players chucked his helmet at the bench, effectively knocking over a few water cups and startling some wiry, bench warming freshmen and sullen-looking Tyson Joto who was benched the remaining time in the season due to the fight he started earlier in the week.

"Watch the steam, Keith," barked Coach, not shaken by Atlas's size or attitude.

"It slipped, Coach," Atlas snapped back.

"Oh, I bet," sarcastically, Tyson quipped to himself as he observed the scene out of the corner of his forest-at-night green eyes.

The coach frowned and replied to Atlas: "Just like how your name can accidentally slip from star quarterback to benched for the rest of the season."

"Coach, you can't!" whined Atlas in a fury. "This is my senior year!"

"Which may give you seniority, but not the right, to play a coveted position on my field," claimed the coach. "Now, Atlas, sit down and cool off."

"Who's gonna lead the team with me out?" Atlas continued to rage.

"Stone," Coach turned to direct the statement to the appropriate student. "Gear up. You're heading the pack for the rest of the game."

Vic glanced at the coach's declaration in disbelief. "Coach," sputtered Vic. "I'm a running back."

"But also the JV quarterback when needed," reminded the coach. "And you're needed now." Vic was in shock.

"For varsity?"

"You know the plays, you're a leader, and we're winning. I'm not asking much. But this is Steele City; we should have had the dumb tigers in a double digit loss by now, but look." He gestured to the scoreboard that had the Titans possessing twenty-two points, but the Steele City Tigers following close with sixteen. "We've wasted enough time. Now get out there, Stone! Keep our lead for the second half," dictated the coach.

"Yes, sir!" answered Vic as he snagged his helmet and jogged to the field for position.

Up in the stands, Kori, clutching a roster to identify her new peers, glanced back at the sheet when she saw a 48 jersey hustle onto the field.

"Eep!" She excitedly squealed. "That is Vic! Vic is taking the iron grid!"

"Gridiron," chuckling, Richard corrected.

"That too," she beamed. "Glorious!"

"You go, Vic!" Gar cheered, paint smearing from him missing his mouth when trying to gulp his soda Rachel brought him. "Keep a grip, butterfingers!"

"Deliver on the snap," through cupped hands around his mouth Richard coached even though he doubted the suitemate could hear him.

Rachel lifted up her iced coffee and jostled the ice in celebration.

"Team," unenthusiastically Jin added with a limp fist pump in the air.

"Aw, c'mon, Jin, have some life in it," enthused Wally who just joined the group due to a late run he just finished. "Go number 55 and 48!"

"Woo, Roy and Vic!" Jade cheered. "Bring in a win!"

"Those are my mates out there! Go Ty, Vic, and Roy," hollered Toni proudly.

"You're doing great, guys. And way to cheer, ladies," kindly, Trenten encouraged in a voice hardly above a typical speaking noise level.

"Yeah!" Kole echoed in a booming octave louder than what would be expected from her petite manner. Clay stood up and raised his fists in a celebratory manner to match the mood of the atmosphere. Jericho offered a smile and hearty round of applause to go with the cheers.

"L-E-T-S-G-O, let's go, let's go!" the cheer squad chanted in unison with their shiny gold pom poms adding pizazz to the field.

"Let's go, Vic!" hardly audible through the crowd, cheered Sara in a lull of the cheer's chants.

"L-E-T-S-G-O, let's go, let's go! L-E-T-S-G-O, let's go, let's go!"

As he gathered courage and tried to steady his nerves, he saw the massive Steele City tigers waiting to devour the Titans, specifically him, as he gained ground to his waiting teammates. Vic glanced back at the crowd to see his friends gathered in the student section, and thought he could hear a few shouts from them. Looking to the right, where the parents typically sit, there were his loyal parents beaming. His mom and dad and grandma were wearing custom t-shirts that had his name and number on them. He quickly switched his gaze to the cheerleaders to find Karen's line of sight directly straight ahead, directly missing him. He also saw Sara smile and he connected her to the light and off-standard cheer of "Let's go, Vic!"

Finally, he looked back at the ten other members of the Titans team surrounding him. "Let's go!" Vic shouted to his teammates.

Immediately and enthusiastically, they roared back the words, hyped on the adrenaline pumping and likely victory.

"Let's win!" Vic boomed.

Again, the huddle responded in cries determined for a victory.

"Let's fight these tigers! Titans together!"

"Titans together!" Deafeningly, the mass whooped collectively.

"Let's go, Vic," murmured the coach to himself, not aware it was heard by any players.

"Yes," mockingly and quietly Atlas agreed, eyes narrowed into slits that rivaled a snake's. "Let's go, Vicky." He leaned forward and pressed his fingertips together as he muttered menacingly, "Let's go."

The whistle's screech pierced the late September air that held the smallest of chilly breezes, but that was unnoticed by the athletes working hard or the crowd getting into the plays; the ball was in action and the scheme of a man who watched it all on his monitor was in motion.

* * *

**Author's Note:** Reminder that some characters have different names than what is their actual one in the comics or show or DC universe -writer's right to change, hehe! Also, Toni, or Argent in the show, is different than her show personality because I feel that there should be a variety of types of people, and I have "gothic" girls covered with Rachel and Jin and kind of Jade. So, sorry if she was your fave and I totally broke your heart! Just how it has to be for this story.

Characters who you met in this chappie, or who you may have forgotten you met:

Antonia "Toni" Monetti - Argent

Atlas Champion Keith - Atlas

Malchior - Malchior

Master Chu Hui - Grand Master

Mrs. Mae - Mother Mae-Eye

Sifu Brushogun - Brushogun, movie


	9. Chapter 8 - Bridges Burned

Author's Note: HI. There is simply no valid excuse for my extremely long absence in posting, except that life has been crazy busy. I hope you all are WELL, my beautiful readers. Apologies on how long this has taken me (I started this chapter back in July [it's late December now] and according to Word, my editing time on this document is 2,396 minutes aka 39.3 hours. I'm not saying it's 39.3 hours good, but I'm 39.3 hours done with trying to tweak it to how I want it to be.)

_Artemis: _I get you, girl! He does need to choose, and he may very well do so in this chap! Thanks for reviewing!

_TheUltimateStar:_ Thank you so much for reviewing and for the love! Very appreciated. Here's a super long update since it's been so long; hope it won't disappoint!

_ShinnParker:_ Good! I love a good, long chapter as well! Thank you so much for reviewing.

_DarkFire0407_: Thank you! You're awesome.

Thank you ALL so very much for reviewing, following, favoriting, and READING. Please continue to do so! Please don't give up on this story; I'm not! It's just taking longer than I initially thought with how much I want to pack into it. A lot of this chapter is filler on the character's background/history/where I want them to be for the next ACTION/DRAMA PACKED CHAPTERS coming u N. Happy reading, lovelies!

_**DISCLAIMER:**_ I do not own Teen Titans or DC Comics, but this story I do own, like, the plot, I guess, and some of the personalities, perhaps.

* * *

"'Sophomore superstar Victor Stone led the Titans to victory on their home game Friday night by making impeccable calls in team huddles to stomp the Steele City tigers in to their losing score,'" enthusiastically, Gar read the local newspaper, _Jump City Journal_ to the gaggle of friends in the hang out living space of the tower. His reporting was quite efficient considering his tablet screen held a large crack from many drops. Regardless of condition, however, the good news continued, and Gar leapt to his feet with a large grin as he further proclaimed from the written work. "'Stone is already on his way to breaking records with the amount of yards he has been throwing and running this season. Titans Academy scored big when Stone enrolled into their boarding and day school. Great things will come from him attending such a pristine school with his pristine skills.' Dude, you're a _legend_!"

"And to think that we know him," Kori cheered with clapping hands and a smile to support her friend. "You showed the iron grid who was boss for sure!"

"A bit biased for journalism, but accurate," commented Rachel as she paused her morning herbal tea sipping.

"Great work, Vic," agreed Richard with a punch to Vic's shoulder in jest.

"Ya'll, thanks for that," Vic smiled broadly and lightly returned the gesture to Richard's arm. "Leading that victory was sweeter than this heap of chocolate covered bacon strips." This statement then prompted Gar to gag as Vic shoveled the fried food into his mouth to top off the brunch among friends. He leaned back in his seat on the couch in the community space in the tower and gulped the remaining drops of his juice. "Ahhh," he vocalized in thirst-quenched satisfaction before asking, "So what are the plans for today?" It was Saturday nearing noon, and the day had a wide variety of opportunities for adventure.

"I'm going to Gotham after this for a thing with Bruce," Richard grimly stated. "I'll be back tomorrow."

"Job hunting," Rachel said, matching the boy wonder's grave tone. She sighed and wistfully swirled the final drops of tea in her beloved mug as she tried to shove away the insecurities of putting oneself out there in the world when searching and applying for jobs.

"I am doing the call home with seeing of the video," shrugged Kori with a half smile.

Vic frowned at their busyness, but then glanced at Gar who has surprisingly clicked quite well with Vic in the friendship aspect these past two months of school, and who also was currently leaning back in his chair, guzzling a root beer already. "BB?"

"I'm setting Kor up with VidSee, that video chat network," Gar explained, but added, "Then, I'm waiting in line at the game store for the newest and hottest game ever: _Harvest of Souls: Ninja Negotiation_. I hear that the first level weapon is a ukulele and a spoon, and you have to trade up until your prized katana is back in your hands."

"Who took the sword initially?" inquired Kori.

"Zombies," Gar explained as if it was obvious, "in the previous installment of the series." Kori skeptically nodded at that explanation and sent a questioning glance at Richard who shrugged amusedly and plucked a grape off her breakfast plate.

"That all sounds incredibly horrifying," Rachel commentated on the video game title and possible plot line associated with it. "And that's coming from me."

"Man, doesn't that game not release until Tuesday?" established Vic, throwing his napkin across the room and perfectly nailing the wastebasket. He shot a smug expression at Richard who has thrown at least half a dozen wads of napkins and continues to miss. Richard chucked the trash at Vic's face instead and felt a small victory surface from the previous missed throws with the napkin pecking the brown forehead of Vic.

Gar tilted his head as if trying to understand Vic's point about waiting for a video game's release for the rough timespan of half a week. "And?"

"I doubt the line for that release will require a three day campout," commented Rachel with a dubious expression as she refilled her mug with hot water from her kettle and placed another herbal tea bag inside the ceramic haven.

"It does if they're releasing six of the games to those waiting in line between tonight and Tuesday!" Gar enthusiastically argued.

Rachel simply commented with, "Hmmm," as she continued sipping her tea.

"You guys are just trying to hide your internal excitement at this video game and won't admit that I was right in choosing this lifestyle as a gamer," Gar stated, convinced his video game was top notch.

"Right, BB," joked Richard as he dodged a trash toss from Vic. He turned and asked the thrower, "What are you planning to do, then?"

Vic in response tried to mask his disappointment as he digested all of his friends' statements about their day. Honestly, he was banking on spending the day with the gang, but it sounded like they all had obligations in their itineraries. He toyed with going home after all since his family lives in Jump City on the mainland, but his folks were going to flea markets out of town today due to the fact that he told he wouldn't be home, so that crossed out heading there. Then, Vic remembered his car's latest paint job thanks to Atlas. He sighed, "I guess work on my Cy-car."

The group soon parted ways, bidding good days to one another. Rachel left with Richard who dropped her off on the mainland for the impeccable fun of job searching. Richard then sped away on the R-cycle toward Gotham; the trip would be a long one on a bike, but worth it for the fresh air and avoidance of stuffy limo drivers. Gar happily set up the video chat with Kori and explained the basics of the program that blessedly would connect her with her home people to help ebb the sick home feeling. He then zipped to Clay Gnarrk's dorm where Kole drove them to the store to wait with the other geeks of Jump City.

Vic grumbled as he stomped down the stairs to the garage portion of the tower. He paused as he entered the premises of his baby and frowned. For the next hour, a montage of him searching the Internet for solutions, gently tapping on the paint, sitting behind the wheel to see if it was at all possible to still drive despite the graffiti, and clutching his heart at the prices to replace the glass ensued. A few students passed by and gave him sympathetic glances, but nothing helpful in the journey of removing the graffiti from the Cy-car's windows.

Then, the cherry on top, as early afternoon neared, was Atlas wickedly chortling as he strode by, Sara deep under his arm. She smiled faintly, but was held tighter in Atlas's embrace for the action. Vic didn't like her in that grip, but for some reason he doubted that it was because it was Sara with Atlas, but maybe more to do with something else. He disregarded the thought and zeroed back on his initial task of ridding the graffiti.

Vic was downtrodden and squatting on a cinderblock he found, simply staring at his damaged baby, when he heard steps behind him. They made a beeline straight for his car, and he barely had time to turn when the person stoically stood beside him. He was expecting a throw of heated words or even a hefty punch, but he did not expect the sloshing of a soapy-water filled bucket, some sponges, and a cleaning solution that looked homemade. With determined, but mild strokes as to not further damage the vehicle, Karen scrubbed the Cy-car with a bewildered Vic still on his perch.

As the minutes ticked by, he finally found his bearings, scooped up a sponge, dipped it in the water, and lathered the littered window in the suds. He didn't know what to say. He was flabbergasted at her being willing to be even near him after the way he blew her off Friday both in class and after the encounter with Jin and Tommy. Lamely, he repeated the statement that he presented her with when they danced yesterday, "I thought you were mad at me."

Karen didn't look at him, but rather spun from car and slammed her sponge into the bucket with such ferocity, the water gushed like a geyser and splattered her arms and face. "I'm not mad," she seethed as she planted herself on the opposite side of the car from Vic. "I'm vexed. Enraged. Irate. Indignant. _Furious_. Take you pick, Stone, because it's all you ever do anyway."

* * *

"I understand that Tameran needs safety," Kori said in her native tongue to the computer screen's program, VidSee, which allowed her to video chat with a familiar face of home.

"I miss you dearly, but it's just not safe for anyone to be in contact with this country at the moment," sadly, Foster, the person on the other end, reported to Kori. They have been on the chat for just twenty minutes, hardly able to dig into deep topics with so much to inform and cover.

"Give my family my love," Kori attempted to paste on a smile for that statement.

"They wish they could chat with you, but…" Foster stopped his sentence.

"Many people are still missing since the attacks," finished Kori. "I know not many escaped the country's boarders as I was able to."

"There is still hope, my little fire," encouraged Foster with his pet name for the girl who held a dear place in his heart.

"Always, _k'norfka_," she replied, a genuine smile this time, with her own special name for him. It also felt good to be speaking in her first language. "So, when might I see you again?"

"Hopefully, when this rubbish with the Gordanians is finished," Foster answered, frustration evident on his tired face. Kori noticed how he seemed older through their short video session. War, or even the thought of it, will age you. "Until then," he continued with a downcast expression, "we cannot speak to each other. I have connections with almost all people who were able to leave, but communicating even for the smallest of seconds would be dangerous. The Gordanians are hungry for Tameranean's enslavement."

"I understand," she dutifully repeated in English –her heart breaking at the thought of not being able to keep in contact with her country and specifically Foster. He nodded, the slightest possibility of tears hinting in his emerald eyes. Kori weakly touched the screen with her fingertips –it was as close to home as she could get- and bowed her head as she logged off the program the way Gar taught her.

Head hung low; she remained in the study nook with her spirits and heart depleted at the ravaging news of her homeland. She mumbled to herself in Tameranese, "What a mess."

"What was that?" asked a voice. Kori snapped her head up to see that Xavier Red had entered the nook. Recently, she noted, because the door was still swaying with opening.

"Nothing," she dismissed with a quick turn of her lip in a smile. Xavier has been friendly to her, so she will be to him as well, but she did want to keep an eye on him. Richard had mumbled something about Xavier being "bad news" and to keep her distance. Of course, _she_ will be determining whom she should be around, but she did want to consider Richard's opinions as well.

"So you randomly speak foreign languages to yourself?" he jested, but Kori received it wrong, and frowned.

"It is not foreign to me," she stated as she closed the laptop top and stood.

"Yesh," he exhaled, realizing his mistake. "How is it that we have yet to have a conversation where I don't upset you in some way?"

"You did not upset me," she replied, carefully watching him with a calculated eye.

"Great. Want to grab lunch, then? Pizza?"

Kori raised her eyebrows at his cockiness, and remarked, "Perhaps another time."

"Aw, c'mon, Kori," he soothed. "We had a great conversation the other day in the hallway, why are you blowing me off now?"

She opened her mouth to retort that his cool guy façade horribly combined with his sincere side he has somewhere, but she reflected upon his advice and how she applied it when confronting Kitten yesterday at the football game. What would it hurt to have one meal with this guy?

"Okay."

"Okay, you want to blow me off, or okay, let's go grab a bite?" he asked.

"Okay, let us go get 'a bite,' but I will want more like a dozen or so to eat that pizza," she said. He offered and low rumble of chuckles, assuming she was cracking a joke. Honestly, Kori just thought he meant a single bite. American lingo was weird.

"I must thank you," began Kori once she and Xavier grabbed their pizza slices and found a table that was clean enough to dine upon in the boisterous Titans cafeteria.

"Oh, well, I'd recommend ranch dressing on any type of food any day," he answered as he curled his pizza to match the appearance of a flatbread sandwich and dunked it in the creamy ranch pool on his plate.

"No," dismissed Kori as she denied his offer of dumping the sauce on her slice. She wanted to dip her pizza into something, but she was sure ranch was not it. "I meant for the talk in the hall way after Kitten spoke with me. I thank you for your advice."

"To pay no attention to Kitten? That will actually get you quite far," he remarked as he chomped on the cheesy dough.

"You told me to fight for me, and it led me to sticking up for myself, so I thank you."

"You were doing the work of sticking up for yourself," Xavier commented. "Thank yourself," he encouraged with a face devoid of a grin, but not a grimace either.

"Well, you should thank yourself, too, then," continued Kori. "You are where you are at due to you fighting for who you want to be and not what others judge you to be." He shrugged and sipped his soda, but Kori could swear she saw a hint of a smile crack his stoic expression.

"I'd have to be dead and rotting before I let anyone tell me who I am," Xavier stated confidently.

"And who are you, Xavier Red?" inquired Kori, arms gracefully folded on the table infront of her.

"I'm number one," he proclaimed as he laced his fingers to cradle the back of his head.

Kori squinted her emerald orbs at him as if in careful observation. "That is not all, though. I think that you are a tough guy, someone who will not be bullied, but who also has a softer side that few see –given away by the fact that you are eating the slice of the pizza with me."

Xavier considered her declaration, leaning back in his chair with arms folded and mouth to the side in thought, neither denying nor confirming. "I'll tell you what, cupcake," he dropped from his chair and leaned over the table from his sitting position. "Get to know me and find out who I am exactly, because I for sure want to get to know you, Kori Anders."

She blushed at his statement and glanced at her lap. "I, uh, do not think that is a good idea," she managed to mumble out, eyes still locked downward.

Xavier's eyebrows shot up in curiosity. "Why is that?"

"This 'number one' you seek, cannot be accomplished with me anywhere in the situation."

"You're smart, brave, and hot, I don't see how you in the picture could hinder where I want to be."

"So that is what I am to you," Kori quietly stated as she registered the qualities Xavier's observed of her.

"What? No," he began to try to correct the statement, but someone interrupted.

"Hey, Kori Anders?" called a student, Leonid Kovar, who worked in the school office part-time.

"That is me," she answered with a lifted hand and smile.

"Phone call from a Richard Grayson," Leonid replied quickly. Kori's face lit up at the news brought by the kind student.

"Wonderful! I thank you, Leo," she charmed as she plucked her dishes from the table and began to maneuver to the area where should could answer the phone. She glanced back at the slumped Xavier and her goodness could not keep her from leaving him feeling glum. "Are you the all right?"

"Huh? Oh, yeah. I'm good." Xavier flicked a small grate of cheese that had slipped off the slice. With dull eyes he watched the dairy product skid over the table's edge. He raised a hand and waved her off. "Don't worry about me, cupcake. I can take care of myself. Go chat it up with your boy," replied the rebellious boy whose tone was both a mixture of confidence and annoyance.

Kori offered him a half smile and gently commented, "I will see you later." He curtly nodded as she rapidly escaped the cafeteria to answer the call of Boy Wonder.

When Kori was out of earshot, Xavier bitterly mumbled, "Looking out for number one, aren't you, Rich Boy?" He huffed out a breath and swatted his trash across the table before marching out of the cafeteria to go find some buddies to waste away the rest of this lame Saturday.

* * *

"How do you manage the stress of being a full time student and full time boy wonder of Jump City and Gotham, Mr. Grayson?" Currently, Richard sat on a leather couch beside Bruce for an interview with some fancy magazine whose interviewer insisted on entitling him _mister_.

"Having friends really help the balance," Richard explained as he leaned forward and placed his arms on his knees. "We can study together or hang out, and they support and understand when I leave on the weekends for Gotham obligations with the Wayne Empire."

She nodded and continued, "I understand some of your classmates are in the same social circles as yourself, such as Roy Harper, heir to the Oliver Queen fortune, and Barry Allen's nephew Wallace West, and Antonia Monetti the wealthy New Zealander with a political father. How has the schooling been with some of your socialite friends doing classwork with you now?"

"Well, I think we'd all want to establish that we're normal kids, which includes school, obviously. And like most kids, they know some students outside of the school building due to parent connections or neighborhoods. We're the same, you know, being from the same neighborhood," he attempted to explain, hoping this interview was nearly over.

"My neighborhoods were of old people and dogs who loved to bark at midnight, never millionaires," jested the interviewer. Richard allowed a hollow chuff of a laugh to exit his bored, stiff being in response. He was honestly tired of these types of interviews. What was honestly so special about him? His "father" had a lot of money? Big whoop.

Not bothered by his impersonal responses, the interviewer surged onward, "It is nice having familiar faces in the classroom, I bet."

_ And the reminder that you can never escape who you are_, he silently added. Outwardly, he replied, "Continuously."

The interviewer bobbed her head with a slight frown at the terse response, and then a crewmember called for lunch. An array of finger sandwiches and veggies with chocolate covered fruits for dessert was spread on folding tables near the set.

_A perk,_ Richard dubbed silently to himself as he piled his plate high of the ham and cheese rolls along with strawberries in chocolate, _of this lifestyle, I suppose_. He glanced at his watch and noted that Kori would be done talking to her family by now. Quickly, he stuffed a sandwich in his mouth, slid out his phone, and dialed the school, which then connected him to the landline near her since she doesn't have a cell phone. After explaining whom he needed, he was put on hold by Leonid Kovar. Cramming the second half of his sandwich, he waited for the girl to pick up the other line.

"Hello?"

"Hey, Kori," he greeted, a smile breaking through his stiff face of passiveness for interviews and photo ops. "What's up –how's it going for you?" he asked after a quick rephrase. Some American lingo still stumps her and he skirts around them as much as possible.

"Fine, I just had pizza," she replied.

Richard _wanted_ to say, "I'd choose that school food with you over this fancy sandwiches here in Gotham any meal." But instead he realistically replied, "That's good. How did your video chat with your home go?"

"It went… well. Well, it went the well," she replied after a beat of thought. That answer didn't suffice in his opinion; something didn't go smooth on the chat for her.

"What's wrong, Kor? How's it going for real?"

She sighed. "Ultimately, with the war and enemies, it is unsafe for me to contact home again. At least for now." Her news hit him in the gut. He knew what it was like to not be allowed to phone loved ones.

Never being one to go too deep, he broke from that fixation and replied, "I get it, honest. Have I told you about the Christmas my sixth grade year?" He already knew the answer, because he never spoke of that season of his life, but the girl on the other line seemed worth the risk of cracking open the memories he has so heavily guarded for the past half decade or so.

"No, you have not told me," Kori spoke with a slight lift in her voice at the prospect of another piece of Richard to add to her collection for stringing his personality and character together.

He smiled at her tone. _She's worth dialing open the safe of memories and possible wounds re-entering his heart at their presence_. "In a nutshell –I mean, in summary, I know what it's like to have limited communication with loved ones. I was a sixth grader –a time in every guy's life that is horrible in so many ways. Anyway, that winter was especially cold, as it should be…" And he spent the remaining lunch break and a good part of the afternoon telling her his tale to the homesick alien.

* * *

Rachel was not having favor in the hunt for a job. The noon sun beat through the typical autumn day, and made it too warm for her to be cocooned in her oversized, light gray cable knit sweater, dark bottoms, and solid black boots. Her head felt especially warm as each manager sneered down their nose at her, but she blamed that heated embarrassment on her black beanie that lay upon her indigo locks.

She glanced up from her city map and crossed off another restaurant that was expecting the employed server to be _cheerful_ about giving grubby teenagers greasy burgers and get spit on by babies and poorly tipped by businesspeople on their lunch break. She believed in hard work, to earn what you want, but she also knew that the food industry was not her route.

Meandering around the corner on the sidewalk, she spotted the main street in Jump City that had a pizza parlor, arcade, Movie Theater, many cafes, boutiques, bookstores, and the video game store. This hyped area, called The Hub, is where the buses picked up movie goers and the taxis swing over for students going to the under 21 club called 21 Down –a socializing scene with dancing, cheap appetizers, and fizzy flavored waters or sodas. It was a favorite of all high school kids in the area, Titans Academy included. Rachel would rather be homeless than even consider applying at that extroverted hot spot, but she didn't mind the view of the club: a grocery store with some _Help Wanted_ signs displayed beside a tower of canned peaches.

As she picked up her pace to enter the market, a voice stopped her trek.

"Hey, Rae," greeted a familiar green-streaked guy. Gar stood happily in a line of utter geeks, in Rachel's opinion. So many shirts referencing video games; some were even in costume. Gar later corrected her with the term _cosplay_ when she made mention of it. He smiled at her ignorance of geekery and questioned, "What are you doing here? I thought you had a two foot radius from your books in your room," he jested as he stepped away from the line, asking Clay to hold their place for a few moments.

Rachel frowned at his quip. "Reading is _fun_, but right now I'm job searching," she answered and held up her list of cross-offs, no-gos, and turndowns.

"Aw, let me see," he said and snatched her treasured map away before she could protest. "Yeah, you're looking in all the wrong places."

"They're the ones with _Help Wanted _signs," answered Rachel with a hint of defiance –she couldn't help but feel he was judging her ambition.

"We've heard of all these joints. You need to apply to the weird, off-beat ones."

"What's that suppose to mean?" Rachel asked, feeling her defenses soaring higher than Ithacus.

"The typical fast-food places and high-end stores are always hiring, yeah, but the workers never really gain much more than a paycheck. The weird, off-beat ones are the real gems with genuine workers who care about the quality of their product. You belong in places that appreciate the little details like the cool designs in coffee foam."

"I do…?" she wondered at his statement and if he was sincere. The latter was answered as Gar continued.

"Rachel, you belong somewhere like Dusty Bookjacket's Brews that's a coffee shop with used books. Or Tea's Tome, that has that hot leaf juice stuff you like and poetry readings. And there's Crowd-Out, a club-like place for introverts, I haven't heard much on that one though. I think it's mainly a wi-fi hotspot with comfy couches and quiet employees. East of the hub is Ovations, a store that specializes in fine arts stuff, so like there's a writing tutoring center, small plays, and a bunch of music. Earthtones is an organic café with the nastiest fries I've ever had, and it's just across the street…. What?" Gar peeped up from the map and pointing out all the places to notice Rachel staring at him in disbelief: violet eyes wide and lips parted slightly. He shook away the feeling that he liked her looking at him. "What?" he repeated to escape that thought.

"How do you know all of that? I thought you moved here from somewhere else," Rachel inquired.

"I attended Patrol Academy in De Oom City for a few years, but before that I lived in Jump. Well, Jump outskirts, but came into the city often," he clarified.

"Did you attend Titans Academy back then, too?"

"Naw, I was homeschooled by Rita."

The name was lost on Rachel. "Rita?"

"My aunt, she's now the principal of TA," casually, he explained. "We were pretty close, but Rita didn't like how I didn't have friends. So she'd take me to The Hub to do class, but it just made me less likely to pay attention to the lesson, and also avoid people. Believe it or not, I used to be shy."

"What changed?" She didn't mean for it to come out as accusatory as it did, but Gar didn't seem to take offense if he noticed.

"I didn't like not having friends once I realized my life wasn't normal being alone. I actually needed to leave my room." He smiled and elbowed her. She backed away from both the contact of his arm and how close to home he was hitting about being a shut-in. Gar continued, "Soon enough, I found out that the quickest way to befriend someone is through laughter, so I found all the great jokes I could and tried 'em out when I got to Patrol."

"And Patrol kids actually thought you were funny?"

"Ha, Rae, everybody thinks I'm funny," Gar good-naturally replied as he threw his arm around Rachel's shoulders, which she quickly ducked out of. He continued smiling, his joy not faltering due to her coldness of touch.

"Then why did you leave?"

"What is this twenty questions or something?" Gar joked; Rachel dipped her head, respecting his space. She didn't mean to pry, and all knew _she_ hated it when people did the same to her, but she couldn't explain why his story, or even him simply talking and not cracking a jest, intrigued her so much. "No worries, I'm not offended," he offered when he saw her back off the inquisition. "I came to TA, because I was able to get a good discount on tuition since Rita is the principal."

Rachel nodded in understanding; a good scholarship was more valuable than its dollar amount if it meant opening a door of opportunity provided in such an esteemed school like Titans Academy. "I get it," she stated with a small tip of her mouth at this backstory. He smiled with a slight shrug as if to not make it a big deal.

"Have you ever seen an elephant hiding behind a flower?" he asked suddenly.

"What?" This sudden verge in the conversation totally caught Rachel off guard. Was this some kind of crypt or explanation he was providing?

"That's because they hide so well!" he cracked with a joyous grin. It dawned on Rachel that he was continuing his joke-a-day gig with her. She was just about to mention it to him that he could cease the jests, when his face darkened and the smile slipped from his mouth. "Speaking of hiding, I should do so," he grumbled. Rachel turned to see Kole Chrystal and Trenten Brooks walking up and pausing to chat with Clay who faithfully held his and Gar's place in the geek line.

"Kole and Trenten?" Rachel asked Gar. Him suddenly changing his mood so swiftly was out of character.

"Kole's fine," Gar said, but added in a mutter, "Trenten is the- never mind." Rachel raised her eyebrows, but didn't comment. Clearly, Gar wanted to bottle his opinions on the star swimmer.

"Rachel, Gar, hi," greeted Kole with a grin.

"Hey, guys," echoed Trenten with a friendly arm wave. "What's up?"

"Job searching," replied Rachel passively as Gar mumbled a "nothing" response.

"Any luck?" Kole inquired. Rachel shook her head and stated how she should get back on the hunt. Kole, Trenten, and Clay send their jolly good-byes to the girl, and Gar managed a terse nod in farewell but kept silent. "Oh, Gar!" Kole remarked as she quickly jogged back over to report on something she just now recalled. "Principal Farr told me to relay to you this message." She handed him a paper folded neatly. Gar limply grabbed it and scanned the contents. His face scrunched and he muttered a word Rachel didn't quite catch as he crumbled the note and chucked it towards a trashcan. It missed, and uncharacteristically of the eco-enthusiast, Gar left it. _Or didn't notice it_, she silently excused.

Comforting was never her thing, but she went out on a limb, "You okay, Gar?"

"Peachy," he snapped.

"Gar, this isn't you-"

"Who do you want me to be, then, huh, Rachel?" Gar sneered. "You? Like the girl who doesn't know how to have fun like normal people?"

"I can't afford fun," Rachel defended. "I have to have a job in the wacko places."

"How can you get a job?" he asked. "Wearing your emo-colors and never letting anyone in. You never leave your room, you just read your nasty, old books. Why do you have to be so creepy?" Gar accused. A slight flicker in his forest eyes hinted that he slowly was registering his word choices, but the damage already had been done.

Rachel pivoted on her heel of worn combat boots and scurried away to anywhere from Gar.

"Rachel," Gar attempted to proclaim to her, but a sudden surge of noise from the crowd at the game store erupted his call. Apparently the drawing for the line standers winning the game was happening, and someone won, but neither he nor Rachel cared. She just needed to get out of there before Gar's accusations could become reality. She wasn't creepy, was she?

Sanctuary was found as she stepped from the street to the sidewalk on the other side of the road from the video game. The store had a giant teacup logo and fancy scrolled calligraphy across the cup. She exhaled a breath of frustration, opened the heavy door to _Tea's Tome_, and entered the quaint teashop in downcast spirits. She spun inside and hustled through to the side of the room and on back where she finally found a small alcove with no eyes to peer at her. Rachel slid down the wall and crouched with her knees to her chest. Her current novel tumbled out of her messenger bag and she clung to it as if it held her sanity.

"I'm not creepy," she quietly insisted to herself. Images of her gloomy personality, murky color choices, and secluded book readings of classics or ancient legends for free time all pointed in the opposite direction, however. "I'm not creepy, I'm just different." Her forehead found her forearms as she huddled tightly in effort to keep herself together. "I wish there was someone around here that understood that. Someone I could talk to. Someone like me…"

"There is," a deep voice from out of nowhere stated, startling Rachel out of her position with open arms that flung her book at the voice's possessor. The book smacked him in the forehead, throwing his balance off kilter, and made him tumble backwards into a cart of books that were patiently waiting to be returned to the shelf.

"Did you just say something?" Rachel asked, confused since the guy wasn't responding other than a simple "ow".

"I did, and then you threw me on my spine," he chuckled and removed the books that tumbled on top of him with the fall.

"Sorry," she offered as she moved over to help him up, but then gasped as she saw the owner of the voice and a new bruise on his back thanks to her novel of a toss. "Malchior," she breathed in disbelief and wide, violet eyes.

"Hello, Rachel," he chimed, mischief and adventure gleaming in his glacier orbs.

* * *

_Take my pick?_ Vic thought in wonderment. Somehow, he knew voicing this question would add fuel to the fire of Karen Beecher's fury at him, but he wasn't sure what she was talking about either. He decided to play it safe, and remain silent.

"All you do, Vic, is pick and choose people who are right for you in that moment without a care in the world," accused Karen, water still dipping on her arms and face from her sponge dunk. "You expect everyone to cater to your every need or to fall at your feet. I have done neither, which is why I have to fight so hard for this friendship or alliance or whatever we are."

She crossed her arms, and he watched a droplet of water trickle down her brown arm, over her hand, and cling to her fingertip before finally plunging to the cement ground of the parking garage. The drips were from water and her own cleaner to mop up his car after he was a jerk to deserve the graffiti and was a jerk to her to deserve her harsh words.

"Did you choose Sara because she was hard to get by being taken by your enemy?"

Again he stayed silent. Did he choose Sara? He wasn't sure anymore.

Karen exhaled in frustration, "Then answer me this: am I only around because I get good grades and help you with homework?"

But dumbly, he couldn't say anything to accusation.

Karen sighed and squatted to sit on the edge of the cement block near the Cy-car. "You say that you don't get hurt in relationships, Vic, but it's not really a relationship if the person is only in your circle of who you talk to if their connections are beneficial to you."

He leaned back to rest against the car, which resulted in water spots hitting his back but he didn't feel them; he was focused on Karen Beecher.

"I-I don't do that," weakly, Vic finally defended. She lobbed her head to shoot him a look of doubt at his comment. He continued, more confidence, in his rebuttal as he cycled through his friends and found an example. "Gar is my friend and he doesn't have any special connections to society."

"Oh, Vic, I figured you of all people would know who they were rooming with and befriending," Karen chastised as she pressed her fingertips to her left temple. "But you never answered my question: am I only around because I help you with your homework?"

"I can't answer that," he quietly replied.

"Can't because it's the truth," she answered.

"Why are you here, Bee?" Vic asked, diverting her attention. "Why are you spending your Saturday scraping away on a vehicle you could not care less about with a guy who, who…" he allowed his question to trail off because he was about to admit what he was. _A guy who uses people._ She stood to reply.

"With a guy who has betrayed my trust and is apparently using me only for a better grade," Karen finished in a snappy manner with her weight on one hip and arms crossed. She shook her head and answered, "Because, Vic, no matter how it's put, we make a good team. I like how we work together. I know I try harder on assignments for some reason when we do them together."

"Yeah, but teammates don't treat each other the way I have to you."

"There's an understatement," she snipped. "I want you to be there for me, because I feel like I sense a great friendship from you or something," continued Karen. She sighed, but went on with her speech broiling in her mind. "I've been watching how people don't give up on another, like my dad with my mom despite her threats of permanently leaving us. He will always ask about her day, do the chores she hates, and even throw his socks into the hamper. My mom doesn't see it; my dad is a good guy and responds to her hate with goodness even though he has every right to be mad at my mom for the decisions she's made.

"And it got me thinking: If I always responded the way I wanted to when people make me mad, I am no better than my mom or Atlas, and I want to be more than that. I've seen how their relationships with people work out, and how shallow they are for only favors, and I want better relations with people than that," Karen stated. "And you can, too, Vic. So I guess that's why I'm here in this garage cleaning a car with you on a Saturday morning." She shrugged and dropped her hands by her side.

Seeming to have said what she wanted to say, Karen bent down and retrieved the sponge once more and began to scrub at the paint that was actually dissipating from the windows.

"I wish you'd call me Sparky again," he whispered after a few beats of stillness. She paused her work at his words. She released the sponge, which stuck to the car with the incline of the front window, but kept her balled hands on the hood still.

"I wish I could believe you," she replied in a tone mirroring his own. Impulsively, Vic moved his hand to swipe at the wet drops still on her cheek. Karen wrested herself from his touch as if he was fire itself.

"Why can't you?"

"Trust needs to happen, Stone, and that was obliterated when you blurted to the whole dorm about my parents' issues."

"I didn't mean to…"

"Yeah, well, I didn't mean to trust you either," she interrupted.

"How can I get you to trust me again?" Vic asked earnestly. "I know it must be earned, but show me how I can help that process."

"Break it off with Sara," Karen demanded in answer. Inwardly, Vic groaned as they entered this argument once more; he was sick of it, but continued to tune in to Karen's irritated claims. "She is not the perky and beautiful cheerleader you see, Stone. She's not real!"

"Maybe she's only real with me, huh! Have you thought of that?" he accused, crumbling any possibility of a peace with Karen through his harsh retort.

"Break it off with her, Vic, please," Karen repeated, stance fierce, but tone lower.

"Are you jealous because I've been spending more time with her than you, Bee?"

"That's the point, Stone," Karen insisted. "She's in a relationship not with you. You shouldn't be spending _any_ time with her when she has a psychotic boyfriend who keeps tally of her minutes spent with people. Just take my word for it, Stone. She's not who you think she is; break it off. Even a friendship with her is going to hurt."

He stared at Karen long and hard, and then, of course, Atlas and Sara sauntered back through the garage being back from the mainland. Once more, a smirk was shot from Atlas, but a saddened expression caked Sara's face as they passed by.

Karen, watching Vic notice Sara's entrance and her affect on him, received her answer. She bowed her head in acceptance of so many things: that she likes him for some reason and wants him in her life as a friend. Accepted that Vic is too caught up in the competition of Atlas to notice anything else. And accepted that she wasn't ready for Vic to be Sparky yet; her trust was misplaced and she hated being wrong about anything, but especially people.

"I get it," Karen stated after Sara and Atlas left the garage.

"Get what?" This snapped Vic back to focus on the girl in front of him and not the one under his enemy's arm.

Repeating his words from the day prior, Karen sighed and uttered, "I don't owe you an explanation." She gently dropped the sponge in the bucket and strode away in a controlled anger manner, but also with acceptance.

For some reason, the sponge got to Vic. Karen didn't have to be in a dank garage with him, and yet, she was. She was devoting her time to him when she had a million other things on her agenda, that busy bee Karen. And he was here letting her walk away? Victor Stone does not let loose a friendship, he determinedly decided with a pivot in both his mindset of how he sees Karen and how he stood physically.

"Wait, Bee. Karen!" hollered Vic at the retreating figure of probably the most influential and motivated girl he's ever met.

"Just drop off the bucket at my dorm when you're done, okay?" was all she called back in a voice threating to choke her in sobs, leaving Vic once again alone in the garage with a car of graffiti.

* * *

Richard was chowing on the remaining food from lunch and waiting for the ten minutes to finish before he could call Kori back. She had to get off the phone for a bit so another student could use the line, but promised she could soon get back on and she'd ring him after that. Mid-chew of a partially thickly coated potato chip in chocolate, a staff member brought a letter to him, but had no knowledge of who it was from or when it was dropped off.

"It just kind of appeared, sir," explained the messenger.

"Thanks," Richard hollowly replied as he received the letter and nodded for the person's dismissal. He tore open the thick envelope that was quality made –he could tell on those things- and yanked out the paper that held a simple message in print.

_Richard, _

_Your art of association has not gone unnoticed. Your presence would be received in my Company. Looking forward to your decision on the future. _

_W_

Another college recruitment letter or opposing empire representative aiming on getting their claws into the Wayne Company via the heir, typical. He shoved the note into his pocket and continued counting the ticks until Kori phoned him that afternoon.

* * *

Hot tears stupidly built against Karen's hazel eyes as she rushed to her dorm room for sanctuary, and, thankfully, her roommate, the beloved Sara, was absent. Karen avoided the cliché of throwing herself on the creaky bed and sobbing herself into self-pity, but instead sunk to the floor, leaning against her bedpost. She allowed the salty water to trickle down her face, and was simply staring into space when her eye caught a small tube of mascara lying on the ground near Sara's desk. This make-up item and its position immediately snapped Karen to yesterday's events:

The Friday night football game against the tigers ended in a victory, thanks to the ever-so-perfect Victor Stone, but Karen hardly noticed. She was busy building a stone wall around herself from the stares and whispers of the gossipers who were butchering the story of her parent's separation like a celebrity drama. Morphing her anger at Vic and the gossip situation into the form of Sara and that girl's infatuation with the stupid football star, Karen marched into the dorm room, ready for an intense interrogation.

"Sara, this has got to stop," demanded Karen once she reached her dorm room after the football game.

"What has to stop?" Sara asked, not turning from the mirror as she reapplied mascara in prep for the midnight city touring she and a handful of other cheerleaders were doing after the game's victory.

"You using Vic as a toy to get Atlas to turn his attention back to you," bluntly, Karen stated.

Sara dropped her makeup at Karen's declaration. She knew it was a bold allegation, but Karen was a smart cookie and had been piecing together Sara's interactions with Vic verses other guys.

"That's q-quite an accusation you just made," played off she, fumbling for the tube of mascara on the ground.

"It's quite the plan you plotted," Karen retaliated, strutting close enough to step on the tube of mascara to prevent Sara from retrieving it. "Now talk."

"Uh," Sara sighed as she flopped on her bed. She covered her face in exhaustion and muttered through her hands, "It's a long story."

"I got time," Karen said as she pulled up a chair beside Sara's bed.

"Fine," she huffed and sat up to face her bossy roommate. "Lately, Atlas has been flirting with other girls, Kitten Moth in particular."

"Ew," voiced Karen.

"I know," Sara agreed before continuing. "And, I just, I don't know how to say this nicely, but if my boyfriend was going to start chasing a girl like _that_, then I wanted to show him that I could get a guy like Vic."

"A guy like Vic?"

"Yeah, you know, tall, athletic, muscular, handsome, smart, funny, talented, the works," explained Sara impassively. "I guess I was trying to prove my value to Atlas."

"Sara," Karen said. "Your worth as a woman is not based on the type of guy you can get the attention of, and certainly not deterring from your current relationship," commented Karen. "You worth is based on who you are, and you are pretty, smart, and a great cheerleader. You don't need a guy to prove that. But you do need to prove that to yourself. Leading other guys on when you don't have intentions of pursuing a relationship with them is beneath you, girl," kindly, Karen lectured her cheerleading squad member.

"I know it wasn't my finest moment," Sara confessed, chewing her lip as she processed what exactly she had gotten herself into. "But what was I suppose to do? Atlas was spending all of his time in the gym or in detention or flirting with Kitten. I was losing my boyfriend."

"Then let him be lost if he can't see your worth," confidently, Karen advised.

"I can't just drop him, though, Karen."

"Girl, why not?"

"Atlas and I have known each other for ages, we've been friends for forever," Sara reminisced.

"Friendships have seasons," Karen comforted with a touch of reality. "Sometimes two people allow room for each other to grow without the heavy influence of the other."

"But I like who I am and who I'm with," insisted Sara with a slight pout.

"But if who you are is someone trying to make her own man jealous by flirting with other guys, then you're not being true to your potential," Karen said in a gentle tone. "Don't forget your dreams and who you want to be, Sara. Don't forget the girl who loves archaeology and history and culture. You battled your way to get here to Titans Academy from your old, prehistoric school that didn't even have electricity because it was in such a desolate district. If you let your hard work flush away because you're willing to throw it away, then it'll only prove that you're not the girl I thought you were," encouraged Karen with a large smile on her ruby lips.

"I do love history…" quietly, Sara muttered to herself as she absorbed her friend's advice. "It's been so long since I've done anything for me; it feels like all I've ever done was to help Atlas, or do something he wanted me to do like the cheer team or this school."

"Wait, you're at Titans because of Atlas?"

"I'm at Titans because of _me_, I _applied_ because of Atlas," she corrected. "We both grew up in that really poor area –that you knew of my story- and he looked out for me since that place can be pretty rough sometimes. He always made sure I was safe. It seemed like the only thing he cared more about my wellbeing was getting out of that dump so we could actually have a future together."

"Atlas protected you from the slumps and wanted to get out of there so he could do good for you?" clarified Karen who was more than bewildered at Sara exposing this side of the egotistical, athletic jerk who gave her plenty of bullying for attending Titans when it was mainly boys for the past few semesters.

"Yeah," Sara confirmed with a sweet smile. "He got into the junior high program of Titans during spring semester of seventh grade with athletic scholarships. After he saw what a great school this was and how they opened it for girls soon after, he convinced me to come and cheer. He's always been there for me, Karen," Sara stated sincerely.

"Oh, girl, I don't doubt that." Karen hesitated in continuing, "But it seems that he's lagging on being there for you in the attention and romantic departments since he's giving his precious time to Kitten –a taken girl, might I add," realistically, Karen presented.

"And that's where his competitive side takes over his personality, and he becomes a guy who has to win, who has to have the best, and who has to be number one no matter who is in the way or what the costs are to get there."

"Is it worth being with a guy like that, Sara? Is it worth it to you if he doesn't see you as his best?"

Sara straightened, as it appeared Karen's words were finally settling in her mind. "He doesn't see me as his best, does he? He thinks there's more than me."

"Girl," sympathized Karen with a shake of her head, "guys are blind, an-"

"I need to make him see that I am the best and that I am _his_ girl," Sara stated as she stood up with her epiphany.

"Uh, I don't think that was what I was mean-"

"I am going to be the best girlfriend ever by being the best girl ever. I will be number one no matter what, because, like you said, Karen, I worked too hard to get here to have it all go down the drain. I have come from the gutter and deserve glitter."

"I think you misunder-"

"I understand perfectly what I need to do," Sara declared with a grin. "Thanks for listening, Karen, you're the best. Well, for right now, right, since I'm going to be the best, haha!"

Sara winked and fluttered out the door to go accomplish who knows what much to the chagrin and frustration of Karen who slumped on the floor and wished she didn't always feel the need to improve things by sticking her nose into it. That's how she found out about her parent's separation in the first place: being nosy. But her not doing anything with the discovered information only lead to deeper heartbreak, and a mom with a ring-less finger and joyless eyes that hardly look at her own daughter. Determined to not let that happen to anyone ever again, Karen felt propelled to inform Vic on who Sara is before an affair of further heartbreak occurred. And so she pulled her laptop from her desk, but still perched on the ground, and began researching recipes for removing paint from a car window to help connect to a blinded car enthusiast with a crush.

And now Karen found herself in the same position as last night, but with anger at Vic for not seeing what's in front of him, at Atlas for being a jerk, at Sara for being the stereotypical girl who stays with the guy she's with because she can't imagine a life without him and feels she owes him, but mainly at herself for trying to be a good person, but just getting burned.

"I can be good," Karen whispered to herself as she slumped against her dorm bed and slouched on the hard floor. "I'm better than Atlas, better than my dad. I won't use people, I won't use people, I won't use people," she murmured as she clenched her eyes shut to help make her mantra more concrete.

* * *

Kori ignored the hard glances from the people meandering the halls as her and Richard's phone conversation continued with her giggles over his hilarious tale of a mishap with bats and Bruce. "What did you then do after finding the card with the bats?" Kori asked, on the edge of her figurative seat.

"Well, I figured that since it was Father's Day and he had taken me in, he deserved that macho card of bats I found, but how was I to know that Bruce is absolutely terrified of bats?" Richard explained, holding back his laughter at the memory.

"What did he do once he opened the pop-up card and have bats fly at him?"

"He screamed like a little girl," he answered proudly. Kori responded in another round of giggles at Richard's addition of mimicking the screams. "But you can't tell him that you now know about his fear, okay? He'll never allow me to speak again if he found out I told you."

"Your secret is safe with me," Kori responded with a smile as she tilted her head to the phone even more.  
Her word choice impeccably set the stage for the questions that were pounding in Richard's brain to ask. Should he? Over the phone? With a leap of faith, he released a breath and asked, "I can keep your secrets safe as well, Kor."

Immediately, she snapped up and brought the receiver as close as possible to her ear as if to prevent eavesdropping. "What are you speaking of?" she asked, horrified.

Realizing his mistake at his leap, he backtracked to help recover and not scare her away. "Wh-what I meant was, that I hardly know anything about you, and if you ever wanted to share…" Lame. His recovery was absolutely lame and she for sure has already left the phone dangling to be hung up by someone who found him worth his or her time.

Quietly, like a leaf scattering across pavement on an autumn afternoon, she whispered, "Share, because why?"

_Because why?_ Because why _should_ this enchanting, mysterious alien girl share anything with this American orphan heir to a fortune of money but no personality?

"Because… I'm here, I'm nice," he desperately fished for the right words to reach this girl. "I'm your friend, Kori. No one should have to hold all of themselves in. And I guess, at the moment, I'm all you got."

She was silent, but he could hear her breathing as she mulled over his words that were uttered in honestly but quietly. Finally, hesitantly, Kori opened her mouth to utter in a whisper, "I am glad that you are there, friend Richard, truly. But I learned my lesson about exposing myself to others. Kitten, Xavier, and even the Gordanians have all made it very clear how I am seen to them; I am tired of people getting close to me just so I can do favors for them or help get them what they want. I cannot do the nice."

And then the line went dead.

* * *

He stood there, holding his cell phone away from the hustle and bustle of the happenings with Bruce and the press, for a long while after Kori hung up on him. He was bursting with questions but the school never put him through to her after that, no matter how much he bargained and tried to charm the receptionist. Bruce made a throat clearing noise and Richard turned to notice the interview lady was back and he was being summoned to continue the chat. He pocketed his phone and dutifully returned.

"Mr. Grayson," began the interviewer.

"You can call me Richard," he gently suggested, still trying to wind down from talking with Kori.

Well, okay, then, Richard, we left off on the subject of friends. Have you kept in touch much with Wallace West this school year?"

Richard allowed a genuine smile to slowly crack his serious expression and take his mind off of the confusing and intriguing Kori Anders who apparently can't do nice or let people close to her. He knows the feeling.

"Wally and I go way back and it's been good seeing him in class and in the halls at Titans Academy," Richard replied. "He, Roy, and I did some archery earlier and it's quite fun, actually. I can see why Legolas likes it." Charmed, the interviewer and staff surrounding the area chuckled at Richard's words, and Bruce seemed somewhat pleased at a non-stiff response from the heir.

Encouraged with him opening up some, the interview lady hopped on the conversation quickly to not lose momentum. "Roy Harper is quiet the marksman with the bow and arrow, any secret talent of yours that Richard Grayson would like to share?"

_No_, but he knew without even twitching an eyelash towards Bruce that the businessman was wanting him to expose yet another piece of himself to the world.

"Yeah, maybe," he cleared his throat to buy time with his coy response. "I love working out and sports. You know, basic stuff."

"Any specific sports?"

"Basketball and baseball would be my favorite, but I'm a fan of football as well. Especially when my suitemate Vic Stone plays. He brought in a win for us last night."

"That's great."

"Yeah, he and Gar are both great suitemates and competitors for a good round of video games, too."

"School, sports, and video games," she listed, "you're just like an average American guy, aren't you, Richard?"

"Basically. My bank account is slightly different from the average, though." Another round of charmed chortles rang throughout the space. He could tell, though, that Bruce wanted him to go deeper. "However, the above average thing about me would be…" he could see the eagerness of the interviewer who probably felt on top of the world for getting this exclusive. He logged away his heart's response, and lobbied for his generic one. "Martial arts. I love the aspect of mental and physical health along with self-defense and competition." Naturally, the interviewer jumped on this detail, and they talked martial arts, favorite types, and how it's beneficial for the next few minutes.

He was easing into the interview more like a conversation when it violently turned with the question: "The ladies must love your dedication to fitness and mental health, Richard. Any ladies in particular?"

His stomach lunged for the floor at the question. Bug-eyed, he glared at Bruce who understood the gesture, and thankfully, didn't bat an eyelash as he swooped in to the save the interview. "Richard is very focused on schoolwork and his martial arts along with dealing with business matters," Bruce began. "He's much too busy to pay attention to them for long."

"So you like to have flings rather than relationships?" The interviewer twisted and asked.

"Oh, um, no?" Richard jumped back into the conversation. "I'm for relationships, but it just has to be the right girl, and, uh…" He ran his hand through his hair while staring at the ground as he admitted, "Girl's are confusing."

"So there is a girl?"

Richard leaned back and reflected upon his girl interactions and wondered how he can talk about them without exposing their identities or have a false relationship formed? In his ring with Bruce, Toni is quite memorable with her unique style, Australian accent, and credit card ready to assist in every situation especially for a friend in need, and yet she has been known to clip off unneeded friends in a snap. There's Kitten who is an entirely different species, but she was astoundingly confusing with her flirts and hints and also being taken, but throwing herself at his feet and then throwing her weight and influence around the school like the queen; it was bizarre. Jin, Jade, and Kole are girls also in Richard's classes, and they're all nice girls who don't mess around with nonsense and tend to stay clear of drama, but they all three are into dynamics with boys not typically thought to be with their type. There's Sara, a cheerleader and nice girl, but who flirts with Vic despite her relationship status linking her to Atlas.

Karen was outgoing and witty and for sure stood up for her beliefs, but she shrinks into herself when it comes to personal issues such as her parents as Vic horrifically revealed the other day. There was Rachel, an honest and quiet girl who loves to read books, but yet was the most unreadable person ever with how guarded she was. And then there was Kori who was sweet and smart and beautiful and kind and innocent, but protective of herself, so something must have happened to cancel out naivety, and then she says they're friends, but she won't act like it, and she's the captain of confusing him.

"There are quite a… variety of girls enrolled in Titans Academy and engaged in the socialite atmosphere I attend with Bruce," Richard diplomatically stated. "They're all unique and creative and great in their own ways. Many would make great friends, maybe one or two of them could be a potential date or something for a school thing, but as wonderful as they all are," Richard sighed and released his hold on his aloof ways as he honestly finished the interview: "Girls confuse the crap out of me."

The interviewer, staff, and even Bruce all let out a laugh at Richard's reply that wrapped up the afternoon of publicity much to Richard's relief. He wrested his phone and tried not to let his heart slip too far into his gut when he saw no missed calls or messages from Kori, the girl who did not want to do the nice. It was working, he glumly thought. The feeling of her disconnecting him from her life was not nice at all.

* * *

"Afternoon, little lady," Vic greeted later that afternoon as he shifted hands holding Karen's bucket. Blessedly, he finally finished perfecting his baby from the harsh paint thanks to Atlas and his cohorts. He was on his way up to drop off the supplies to the girl who he desperately needed to make amends with when he bumped into Sara in the Tower.

"We need to talk," she stated firmly the four dreaded words no one wanted to hear. These four words also caught the attention of an eavesdropper, Spike the minion and self-proclaimed title of best friend to Atlas Champion Keith.

"Shoot," Vic encouraged the conversation, ready to move on to speak with Karen.

"Here?"

"Right here," said Vic. Later, he would regret his statement since unbeknownst to he and Sara, Spike slipped within hearing distance of them.

"Vic, you're a special guy," Sara began after heaving a sigh to help her confidence for what had to be established in this moment. "You deserve someone who will not only _not_ refuse to dance with you three times, but who will do the asking because they're afraid of losing you to another partner."

"Sara…" Vic began in a sad tone, knowing she disapproved his and Karen's current tiff at the moment.

"No, Vic, let me get this out," she dictated, closing her eyes briefly to regain strength to voice her inner thoughts. When she and Karen were talking last night, this conversation was not as hard as she initially thought. "I'm in a relationship with Atlas, I'm _dating_ Atlas, but he hasn't been acting like it, and I think I may have been redirecting some flirtations towards you because of that. But people have been thinking that by us hanging out and stuff, that we're more than just friends."

"But we _are_ just friends!" Vic threw his hands up in exasperation. Why does everyone assume two people of opposite genders can't be friends unless a romance was to come of it?!

"But you and I both know we wanted it to lead to something else," quietly yet firmly, Sara stated.

Before either one could comment what Sara just did to their friendship foundation, Spike had heard enough to report back to Atlas, and quietly slipped away from the pivotal conversation between the two African Americans.

"Break up with Atlas, then," Vic suggested.

Sara placed her hands over face and sighed as she mumbled, "It's complicated."

Complicated. That word was becoming the base of his life recently. Vic rubbed the back of his neck and frowned again, wondering if he really did want Sara because she was Sara, or because she was someone else's and Vic always enjoyed a challenge –Karen's accusations stuck with him more than he initially thought.

"If you don't like the guy, then don't be with him," explained Vic as if it was obvious.

"I know it sounds crazy," Sara began, lifting her head from her palms as she reflected over her emotions and Karen's conversation with her earlier, "but I love him."

_I love him._ Something in those three, heart-wrenching words hit Vic with a force like ramming into a brick wall. But not for why he thought so. He would have thought hearing her say that would cause him to be angry or jealous since they weren't directed towards him, the "great" Vic Stone, but, if he was truly being honest with himself, the words hit him as hard as they did because it put reality back into his blue-gray eyes.

Vic realized what he was doing. What Karen has been saying all along finally clicked and made sense in this new vision he saw on the situation. He knew he was always an attention hog, and Sara happened to supply that –why, since she was taken, he wasn't sure, but it caused him to pursue her. Sure she was cute and nice, but had he known her boyfriend was anyone else, he would have backed off immediately, but since she was with Atlas… He had allowed his competition with Atlas escalate to the point of him shutting important people out to try to get his unimportant opponent to notice him as the victor. What a lame way to kick off sophomore year, he silently berated himself. He'd been a fool to think facing off against Atlas would do something more than gain attention and stardom.

Just as he was able to throw hypothetical confetti and wish the happy couple well, Sara continued, "I'm going to be the best and Atlas is the best in all he does, so it works. And now that you know why I have been hanging out with you, we can be true friends now," she beamed.

"Say what?" Vic, caught off guard by her statement, asked.

"Was it something I said?"

"Yeah, girl," he stated. "What'cho say about why you've been with me? Was it not because you liked me?"

"Vic, I have a boyfriend," she stated with a scrunched up nose as if the idea of her and him was preposterous. "I thought Karen talked to you, and you were aware of things."

"Clearly not." Vic crossed his arms with his terse words.

"Oh, well, this is awkward," she chuckled. "Long story short: let's be friends." Sara turned to leave, obviously done with this conversation and friendship, but Vic caught her upper arm.

"I thought you just said you wanted it to be something else other than friendship."

"Yeah, but I thought we both kind of had the same reasoning for hanging out and flirting. To brew up some jealousy, right?"

"Say what?!"

"Vic, isn't it obvious? I hung out with you so Atlas would notice that I can replace him the way he's starting to replace me," Sara stated. "And you wanted Karen to realize how much she liked you by making her jealous, right? That's why this worked. We could both do harmless flirting and acting, and get who we want to notice us to notice us!"

"Why do I not recall us discussing using each other like that?"

"I figured it was implied," she quietly answered as she shrugged her thin shoulders.

"Wow," he exhaled. "So, this is what it feels like to be used for what you offer and not who you are." Vic shook his head and focused his eyes on the ground to help zero himself into the present conversation and not all the times he was guilty of doing the same exact thing to countless of other people.

"I do think you're a great guy, Vic," Sara tried to comfort. "Making Atlas wouldn't work if I was spending time around an Average Joe."

"So glad I'm not average," sarcastically, he quipped.

"It's nothing personal, Vic," Sara said. "Maybe if circumstances were different, we could be more than friends or something, but Atlas has been my best friend since third grade. He was my first kiss in seventh grade, and he beat up anyone who was mean to dorky me. He was my protector."

This statement rubbed him wrong. Did Sara even have a clue who Atlas was in the now? How he acted and treated others since he thought himself as hot stuff and ruler of the seniors?

"You just need to be sure that you're in love with the current, competitive, crazy Atlas, and not who he was or what he does for you. Don't make Atlas into more than he is, Sara. Love him for who he is." Vic paused and reflected what he himself did unintentionally to Sara. He made her more that what she was. She was a smart, nice, cheerleader who was dating a jerk. She wasn't this amazing goddess of athletics or flirtatious doll that'd look good by his side as he regretfully admitted is how he saw her until now. Sara was Sara, and that is just fine. She's kind and pretty and _taken_. And that's just fine.

Sara nodded, deep in thought possibly at Vic's perspective on her boyfriend, or perhaps scheming for more flirt scenes to rouse up Atlas's blood pressure. Regardless, Vic was done playing this game with Atlas of constant competing; he was going to focus on being better than who he was yesterday, not others. And the first step was making amends with the girl who truly inspired him to take such developmental steps.

He glanced at the cheerleader before him, and he saw her with new eyes. She was a lost little girl who sought love and attention –in the wrong places at times, but she was just trying to find her way in the world through the approval of others since she has yet to nail down her own self-confidence. Compassion of wanting to see her succeed filled Vic, and he wasn't mad at her despite he devious ways of building a dynamic with him –he was guilty as such, too.

Vic raised his hand to squeeze Sara's shoulder, a common way he typically said bye to his peers, but rethought the gesture and simply waved with a quiet, "See you around, Sara." He grabbed his backpack off the floor and purposefully marched down the hall to seek the person who he knew he didn't make more than who they were. He had to go talk to her and apologize, for his eyes have been opened to the compatibility and friendship of Karen Beecher.

* * *

Richard stumbled through his dorm's door and into the shared foyer space late that Saturday night. He was exhausted from the long day spent with Bruce and interviewers and putting on a good face for publicity, but he was glad that he was able to get all of it done today and come back to the school late Saturday rather than tomorrow. His suitemates' dorm was open and he kicked his bag into his own room before peering into Vic and Gar's.

On the ratty couch that was somehow super comfortable sat Vic who had his feet propped on a root beer crate and Gar's feet were sprawled over the remaining of the couch with his back and head arching over the arm of the furniture. Wordlessly, Richard wandered over the soda cans and dirty socks littering the floor and plopped down between the two zombie-like friends.

"It's been a day," Richard uttered as he wormed his way between Vic and Gar.

"Yeah," Vic commented, dropping his head into his hand to blankly stare at the off television.

"You bet," agreed Gar, tossing some object he was toying with earlier into the abyss of the room.

The trio was all lost in their own thoughts, silence encompassing the atmosphere rather than corny jokes or a video game being played. Honestly, it was kind of therapeutic to be simply real with the guys by not pretending that this day was a superb one.

Finally, Gar broke the silence; "I won the video game from standing in line today." Richard leaned forward to try to catch Gar's facial expression since this was important news to the younger guy, but his voice was hollow and void of excitement like it was hours prior during brunch. "It doesn't feel the way I thought it would –winning something… I think that's because I was being hateful to Rachel earlier. I called her some things that weren't suppose to be said, but were because I was mad at Trenten Brooks for existing and for this note Principal Farr gave me about my parents having to extend their stay in South America. And I took it out on Rachel, dudes. I yelled at her and was not myself and it was awful."

"Man, I found out the reason Sara has been hanging around me was just to make Atlas jealous. So I got to feel what it's like being used for what you have to offer and not who you are," Vic commentated. "And the only girl who does matter in this mess hates my guts, because I didn't listen to her the first thousand times she warned me about the trouble Sara is, and because I betrayed her trust. I also couldn't admit that the reason why I can't let go of Karen being a friend is because she makes me a better person and I need her, but she thinks it's because I need her to make better grades."

Richard rubbed his eyes and reflected upon his day as he offered to the downtrodden, "I give these interviews to the world that takes another piece of me and displays it for all to analyze and criticize. And as usual, afterwards Bruce and I went to dinner, but he made me go a restaurant that happened to have some colleagues who happen to have daughters or girl relatives that are precisely my age in attempt to set _me_ up for a marriage and _Bruce_ for a merger, but the only girl who I _do_ want to impress is too scared to actually build any type of friendship with anyone, but specifically me, it seems."

"Dudes, we totally suck at this woo-the-girl-over thing," Gar stated.

"Even if it's to just be our friend," Richard added glumly.

"Heard that," agreed Vic with a nod.

"Why is it that the girl you actually want in your life is so hard to get in your life?" profoundly, questioned Gar after a few beats of silence.

"Because she's worth fighting for, and if she simply just came you won't appreciate her," Vic answered as he mentally compared Karen and Sara.

"Well, fellas," Richard sat up, slightly inspired at Vic's comment. "Let's fight for these ladies." Vic cranked his head to look at Richard and Gar gave a small smile in response.

* * *

Grant gulped air in short breaths for bravery as he asked his masked master, "Sir, may I ask for some clarification?"

"I suppose, weak link." The answer was the only thing breaking the darkness of the computer room that held the infamous screens projecting Titans Academy's life on it.

"If we are targeting Victor Stone, then why did we drop off a letter to Richard Grayson today?" questioned the apprentice.

"Black holes pull in the entire system, not just a simple planet," explained the man calmly in his condescending tone that sent chills down Grant's back. "We are focusing on Mr. Stone, yes, but as we stated in the letter, Mr. Grayson has a lot to offer as well."

"I understand that Victor Stone's knowledge of mechanics is astounding, and that Richard Grayson can project discoveries into the limelight with his connections, but how are we to progress the matter? Victor Stone will never go beyond perfecting the Cy-car unless..."

"Unless the black hole takes his light," the master stated in a firm voice. "Apprentice, you enroll Monday. You will be there to make sure that the pathetic minion of Atlas Keith's, that Spike kid, gets the information of that floozy cheerleader conversing with Victor Stone to Atlas Keith. Implant in his brain that Victor Stone is to be eliminated."

Sharply, Grant inhaled to compose himself at the request from his frightful employer. "Ye-es, sir. And what of Richard Grayson?"

"He shall fall, but first, the stone."

* * *

Author's Note: WOW. You stayed with me. God bless you. Questions, concerns, comments, just want to talk? Please leave a review! Check back soon for the next chapter [entitled "Sonic Boom" if that entices you to return]. :)

_Noticeable quotes/situations from the episode "Spellbound". _


	10. Chapter 9 - Sonic Boom

Author's Note: Hello, lovely reader! Thank you so much for continuing on with "Fight Anyway" even if my update timing needs serious toning. :) I've been itching to post this chapter for a while now, and feel that it both further extends our knowledge on the characters and helps develop the plot. And if you've been wondering where some of our favorite characters who were in the earlier chapters, some make appearances here! Woo! Reminders who's who is at the bottom, so scroll down, but no peeking, if you need a refresher. :)

Thank you, thank you, THANK YOU for all your lovely reviews, favorites, and follows! And for simply reading! Please leave a comment when you're done to help me better this story!

_Magicmadnessheavensin:_ Yay! I know the feeling, trust me, that's why I finally decided to write a modern TT fanfic -because I wanted to read more, haha! I hope that this story is enjoyable for you. Thank you so much for your review; it means so much!

_Artemis: _These poor guys are pretty clueless sometimes! Hopefully, as they attempt recovery, it's both realistic and accurate to their character. Let me know your thoughts, I truly value your reviews and opinions. Thanks for reading and reviewing!

_LibbieLies: _Hey, thanks for reviewing and reading! You're awesome. The plot does thicken for our favorite Rachel and Malchior, happy reading!

DISCLAMIER: I do not own Teen Titans, but this FanFiction is mine as well as some overpriced textbooks for university, but hey, it'll be worth it, right? ;)

* * *

Sleepily, Kori rolled over from facing the wall, and was blearily peering into the dark, small space that made up the dorm. She was nearly positive she was still dreaming when she saw her typically secluded roommate literally bound out of bed, turn off the alarm before it blared, and scurry about the room to get ready for the day. Rachel quickly put together a classic outfit of a baggy, dark shirt, black pants, combat boots, and a thin gold necklace that held a gold circle with a dark, amber stone in a half circle in order to lay flat against her pale skin.

She was grabbing her bag when Kori propped herself on her elbow and hesitantly asked, "Rachel?"

The voice suddenly disrupting her morning routine shook Rachel to notice her roommate, and pause her movement of slinging the bag onto her shoulder. "What?"

"What are you doing? Is it Monday already?"

"No, it's Sunday, but I'm going out."

"To church?"

"To work."

"Oh! Congratulations!"

Rachel allowed a small smile to disturb her passive face. "Thanks. I start today."

Kori released a yawn, and then asked tiredly, "Where is your employment located?"

But Rachel was out the door and off to her first day of work.

Shrugging, Kori flopped back onto the stiff bed and snuggled deeper into the covers to catch a bit more sleep and to avoid facing Richard and his many questions.

Determinedly, she opened the heavy door under the teacup with fancy script, and entered Tea's Tome with anxiety but eagerness as well.

"Good morning, Rachel," greeted the worker behind the counter. "I like to see my co-workers early and ready to work." Malchior winked with his comment and finished filling the kettle as he jumped the counter and landed beside her. "Welcome to Tea's Tome."

She didn't know how the sun had suddenly burst into the day and sparkle through the windows to make his eyes the clearest possible blue ever created, but blessedly it did.

"So, uh," she blushed as she tucked her stray lock behind her ear, eyes focusing on the ground rather than his eyes that matched the pale blue on the tip of the horizon, "what should I do first?"

"First, you get your very own Tea's Tome polo," he remarked with a smirk. He leaned back and snagged a black shirt and tossed it to her. "Gear up, Chellie, we open at ten on Sundays, and I have a lot to teach you before then." A smirk graced his face as Rachel ducked away to the restrooms to change.

"Ready," Rachel mumbled as she plunged her bag behind the counter and fidgeted with the hem on her new work shirt.

"Great," he chimed. "Let me show a whole new world."

The next four hours were packed of Rachel trailing behind Malchior like a puppy, overwhelmed with all she had to do. Not only was Tea's Tome a tea shop –serving a specialty tea of the day, seasonal brew, and a classic dozen in addition to the random combinations customers can concoct- but the shop had a lounge that needed upkeep and an employee monitoring couch hogs. Also, there was the largest portion of the building and most prominent feature of the shop: the books.

"Does anybody know what alphabetizing is?" Rachel huffed to herself. It was early afternoon, mid-shift, and she already had to reorganize the same series of books a dozen times.

"It's an underappreciated art," quipped Malchior, poking his head near Rachel's as he glided by. She ducked her head, but allowed a small smile as she focused her purple orbs on the novels stacked on the cart beside her. Malchior stood beside her and began re-shelving alongside the quiet girl. "You know," he began in a low tone, facing the shelves as they both worked. "I don't mean to open wounds, but there's someone who understands you, and that guy is me."

His words froze Rachel in place. For the first time, his charming British accent didn't work its spell on her, but rather struck a nerve. Seeing her hesitation on accepting his comfort, Malchior continued for clarification.

"What you mentioned to yourself yesterday when you stormed through here for solitude… I don't think you're creepy."

"You don't think I'm creepy?" Rachel repeated in question, dazed that this conversation was actually happening, but also intrigued at what this mysterious classmate/co-worker had to offer to the secluded girl.

"No. You are dark," he explained in a manner that didn't sound offensive as he retrieved a rag for dusting from his back pocket. "And darkness is often misunderstood."

"What would you know?" Rachel shot back as her defensive walls immediately stacked higher as Malchior struck closer to what her heart has been longing to hear for ages.

"I find peculiar things intriguing –many proclaim that as creepy or weird," he explained as he lifted up a small decorative dragon for emphasis on his statement. He polished the dragon's chiseled scale, claw, and head features as he further offered in explanation: "I'm a fan of a more classical approach at life through the arts of literature and language; plus, I admire the sophistication of darker hues and the architectural ingenious of gothic styles. Individually, these attributes would be unique to my style, but all of that together has me pinned down in that misunderstood category of dark, often entitled creepy." He turned after firmly placing the dragon back on the shelf where it nested to adore the shelf, and focused his azure eyes onto Rachel.

"I-I know the feeling," was all she could offer in shy reply. How could this classmate now co-worker, who was basically a stranger, perfectly peg her sentiments? "People find my interests confusing and grotesque, They think I'm weird with my black attire, meek attitude, and preference of books over humans, but maybe I think they're weird with their celebration of minor achievements like adding one more friend to the ever-extending list of people who'll eventually let you down." Her shoulders sagged with her statement, but she glanced up at Malchior to find him looking at her in understanding. Her bafflement on his connectedness with her furthered as Malchior picked up another knick-knack from another shelf and proceeded to dust it as he spoke in his calm manner.

"Remember this, Rachel," he soothed, "meekness is not timidity, but rather the strength to hold back power. I've noticed that in you."

"You've noticed me?" she squeaked, confused at his statement of observance.

"Of course," he clarified with certainty. "How could I miss the brilliant girl whose mind travels down literary roads of classics and the elegant pathways of scholars, but is stuck in a town like this?" Malchior raised his hands to emphasize the space around them. "I've been stuck in this town for what feels like a thousand years. Doing the same thing every day –as if I don't have the control of making my own story happen, like I'm not the author," he professed, setting down the knick-knack, but keeping his eyes trained on the great wide somewhere, lost in thought.

Sturdily, his hands braced him against the shelf, and it appeared as if he had the whole world against him.

Rachel kept silent, terrified in the aspect of Malchior saying exactly what she felt about this town and her life, especially not being able to control it where her family is concerned.

Malchior rotated his head to face her. "I've just been going through the motions with no purpose." He straightened gazed deeply into her purple orbs in honest confession. "And then I met you."

Before Rachel could register his words completely or be horrified at her girlish blush pinking her face, a loud bang erupted from the café area of the store, ruining the moment as it shook them out of his and her trance. Malchior flipped away to rescue the angry teakettle and angrier barista. The remainder of Rachel's shift didn't permit her a chat with the fair-haired Malchior; however, that still didn't keep the smallest of smiles off her face as she alphabetized books and restocked the shelves and assisted customers until darkness enveloped the city and she clocked out for the day.

* * *

"Dudes, she won't pick up the phone," commentated Gar to Vic and Richard who draped the sofa playing _GameStation_. Cans of various sodas, wrappers of an absurd amount of candy, and a large bucket of buttered popcorn surrounded the duo on the couch. With Kori hiding out in her room, Karen refusing to interact with Vic, and Rachel not returning any of Gar's calls or texts, the boys decided to make it a bro day. Thus far, Vic set the high score in his and Richard's favorite racing game, so naturally the inner competition in the Boy Wonder took over; they've been battling it out solidly for the past three hours on the _GameStation_.

"Leave her be, BB," Richard suggested as he heavily punched the buttons on the controller.

"Let the girl cool off," added Vic, eyes steadily trained on the screen.

"Is that what you're doing with Karen?" Gar retorted.

"Yo, what's with everyone knowin' about her?" Vic asked as Richard's racer passed him.

"Dude, small school. Not much to do other than to get in each other's personal lives."

"Wish I could do that with Kori," Richard commented as he aggressively hit the nitro switch for his racer, but was denied the acceleration.

"Give it time," Vic said between victory cheers of 'boo-yah' at Richard's declining speed due to his tar trap he planted in the game. "She'll be fallin' for you eventually. They always do."

"Yeah, but –dang it!" Richard replied as he drove into another tar pit. "I don't know if I want her to 'fall for me'."

"Are you crazy, man? Kori is great, and take that from a dude who hung out with a floozy for half the semester and because of that, lost a friendship with one of the smartest, most beautiful and talented girls I've met," Vic stated as he cracked open another can of soda.

"Don't run off Kori, dude," pleaded Gar as he flung himself onto the couch's back and perched on the top. "She laughs at my jokes!"

"No, no, I don't want her to leave. I want her around, that's for sure, I like how she views things and makes me want to choose the optimistic route. I just don't know if I want to date her," Richard confessed, unsure of his feelings even as he spoke this aloud to his friends. "Every relationship with the Wayne Empire will be documented, and I don't think Kori wants any media attention. But like, I don't want the world in on our friendship or whatever we are either. I don't know, it doesn't make sense," he tried to brush away the subject, not used to discussing his honest feelings, but liking that he had two people who he could go this deep with.

"Nah, man, you got duties, and with that comes the spotlight," Vic uttered. "You want to protect Kori from what the media does."

"Yeah, I've seen what they post about you. I get why you wouldn't want that to happen to someone you know if you can stop it," said Gar, shoveling in the popcorn between syllables. "Alright!" He proclaimed, leaping from his perch. "It's past four, so swim practice will be over, and free swim is open. I'm off to the public bath," announced Gar as he flung a beach towel over his shoulder and grabbed some flip-flops.

"He's going where?" Richard asked Vic under his breath.

"Pool," explained Vic just as their race ended in perfect tie. "You wanna hit the gym?" Richard perked at the suggestion and the fact that he'd have a spotter.

"You bet," he smiled and stood from the couch, stretching from his seated position that he's held for so long.

The two spent the remainder of that Sunday afternoon working out and hanging out. They even felt inspired and busted out the textbooks, but quickly laughed at the antic and climbed into Vic's Cy-Car –graffiti freshly cleaned off- and drove around Jump in the search of the perfect hamburger. Vic was surprised and pleased when Richard both offered to pay, and then also ordered a milkshake and side of fries with the explanation that he like to dip them for a salty-sweet treat. Vic replied with his signature "Boo-yah" because he thought he was the only one who enjoyed that combo. They spent the rest of the meal cruising the streets and exchanging songs to blare over the speakers. Vic ranted about Sara and Karen, and Richard even opened up more with his Kori situation.

"How did you come to pick her up for school Monday?" Richard asked, polishing off the last fry and making a dramatic show of carefully putting the trash into Vic's trash bag in order to keep the car clean.

"It was kinda weird, man," Vic said, left arm lazily on the ledge of the door and other hand lightly griping the Cy-Car's beautiful steering wheel. "I was just driving with BB and Rachel in the car on our way back to campus from the weekend, and Gar wanted some hash browns, and I was yelling at him to not get anything messy in my car when Gar got a call from his aunt, the principal, who told him about a new student needing a ride. So I was all for helping out the little lady. We found her near the docks and loaded her up. But man, she looked like she was just zapped there. No phone, no contacts, not even a way to school. Makes ya wonder, ya know? She mentioned that her country was at war, but I didn't realize it meant that the citizens had to evacuate."

"Did she say anything else about herself in the car ride?"

"At first she was pretty quiet, but Gar got her out of her shell and we all ended up chatting a lot about petty things, but it was still nice. The little lady deserved a smile after all that she's been through," explained Vic as they pulled into the Titans Academy garage, which conveniently is where the story ends as well. "And you know the rest."

"Yeah, I guess I do," mumbled Richard as he gazed out the window with the car pulling into park.

"Why ya lookin' so glum, man?" Vic asked as he lightly socked Richard's shoulder.

"I'm fine," he answered, scrambling to unbuckle.

"For real," demanded Vic with his tone lowering in seriousness and eyebrows raised in question.

"Do you think she's trying to be mysterious, or just honestly wants her life private?"

"This coming from the world's most popular teenager and who won't open his fat mouth unless provoked by Daddy Wayne?" Vic provoked with a knowing look on his dark face.

"Touché," acknowledged Richard as he slid out of the sleek vehicle. "Man, this really is a nice car."

"Don't I know it," Vic beamed and stroked the Cy-car's hood before shutting his door and locking the vehicle. "This was nice, man," commented Vic as they trekked towards the elevators. "Just having some real conversations for once was nice."

Richard chucked the trash bag full of burger wrappers and empty shake cups into the nearby wastebasket in the garage. "You and BB don't talk?"

"Nah, we do, but never about this stuff, and sure I wouldn't want to have a heart-to-heart every night, gotta stay manly, but it's good to get some stuff of the chest for sure," Vic remarked, hitting the button to call the elevator.

"I get what you mean," said Richard as he moved to enter the elevator, but jumped back when it opened to reveal Atlas and his minion Spike firmly planted in the transport.

"Let's take a walk, boys," suggested Atlas in a tone of no nonsense, arms crossing over his barrel chest.

* * *

Kitten Moth needed a distraction. Not for herself, she kept plenty busy, but for that dumb jock, Vic Stone. Richard Grayson's evening has been hung up with his stupid guy friends, and she was sick of being polite and waiting for him to be without his buds, but the Boy Wonder was always surrounded! At least prissy Kori Anders hasn't shown her has-to-be-fake-tanned face around Richie-poo today, Kitten mused in her odd grateful way. The girl should be just now spiking her temper as Kitten just left Kori's dorm, handing her an exclusive copy of the magazine beholding the magazine from Richard's most recent interview about girls, and her own commentary about him being a womanizer to the poor alien girl who won't know the difference if Kitten was bending the perspective of the interview or not. English wasn't Kori's strongest points.

The two, Richie-poo and Victor, will be returning soon from their adventure, Kitten plotted. Then, the perfect 'distraction' popped into her head. She made a detour from her route to her room to knock on Spike's door.

"What is it, Kitten?" Spike asked, face blank of his possibly fear of the blonde.

"That information you've gathered about Vic and Sara's conversation I told you to spy on?" Kitten inquired.

"Yes?"

"Now. Go leak a bit of it to Atlas."

"What? Why? I like living," Spike stated, fear now entering his eyes to Kitten's pleasure.

"Just tip him off a piece to make him think Vic has been advancing towards his girl, you don't have to provide specifics from the recording you got. Save that for later," commanded she in her devious tone. "Sample him enough to make Atlas want to do something to the great Vic Stone." And then, she added silently in victory, she will have her chance of solitude with Richard while Vic is occupied.

But even as thoroughly Kitten Moth can plan, schemes sometimes stray.

* * *

"Thanks for the medic help, Hot Shot," Vic grimaced his gratitude as Tyson slapped another bag of frozen peas onto the bald of head of the thanker.

"We owe you one," piped in Richard through his groans. He was spread out on the dorm floor of Roy Harper and Wally West with suitemates Tyson Joto and Trenten Brooks aiding in the nursing of the two very bruised and banged up Richard and Vic.

"Your sorry butts better be grateful," Tyson snipped. "I'm in deep crap with this school anyway for fighting, and helping you out with Atlas isn't going to do me any favors."

"I know what you guys will be thankful for when Turkey Day rolls around," quipped Wally as he observed the scene, unable to help much in the medical area but in ready supply of quick wit.

"Haha," drily, Richard responded.

"What happened anyway?" Trenten asked as he brought in more pillows for the patients.

"Probably an arm-wrestling match gone wrong," joshed Roy as he wrung out a damp rag that was used on some of the bruises and cuts. "You know Richard Grayson, has to be number one and can't stomp out that competitive side of his once it's unmasked."

"Hey!" Richard attempted to verbally interfere, but was shoved back down by Roy who rolled his eyes at the Boy Wonder.

"It's a long story," voiced Vic who was attempting to delay the explanation, but poking from Wally on his bruise provoked him into spilling the story.

Atlas demanded Richard leave to "preserve that pretty boy face for the press", but Richard would have none of that –loyalty Kitten didn't predict in this brawl situation when attempting to set up a scenario of Richard being alone.

Then, Atlas ranted about Vic getting cozy with Sara, but Vic insisted that they never did anything. Spike then jumped in and reported what he eavesdropped the other day. Conveniently, Spike left before Sara confessed to always loving Atlas and wanting to win him back and Vic backing away from the situation.

When Atlas began to swing, Vic blocked him.

"Not cool, man," he grumbled as his hand encompassed Atlas's fist.

"So you say that you're not into Sara any longer and will back down from her and football?" challenged Atlas.

"Say what?"

"Back off," seethed Atlas as Spiked shouted cheers for his puppeteer.

"Look, man, I ain't interested in Sara, but I do love football. I'm not backing down from that, no way." He blocked another jack knife hit.

"If you fight me back, then it means you want her, you want Sara," Atlas ridiculously declared. "Fight me, and you're dead, Stone!"

"He has to defend himself," Richard argued.

"You get involved, then I know he has something to hide, something like an affair with my girl!" Atlas roared.

"You got it all wrong," Vic defended. "We were friends, but she was only friends with me to make you jealous! We're not talking anymore as friends. I swear."

"Sara is loyal to me, she'd never stray for scum like you," accused Atlas as he flung another meaty arm towards Vic who missed it by mere inches.

"He's deranged," said Richard, which got Atlas onto him.

"Pretty boy has something to say?" Atlas accused and thumped Richard hard in the gut before his senses kicked in to defend himself.

"Lay off, man," Vic deflected.

Atlas, seeing that Stone got more riled when he attacked his friend continued his socking.

"I said lay off!" shouted Vic as he jumped between a restrained Richard and swinging Atlas. "This is between you and me." Vic raised his arm, and to his chagrin, unloaded an explosion to Atlas's jaw, causing the brute to drop his hold on Richard and stumble away so the two could tango without Richard and Spike interfering.

They rumbled for a few moments, then Atlas cut in with a peculiar statement. "And it's between Sara and Beecher," he declared with eyes narrowing and a wicked smile carving his thick face. "If you truly aren't into Sara, then you won't fight for her, so you won't fight me. By defending yourself, you're defending that you have something to hide, something like a fling with Sara."

"You're an idiot," boomed Vic as he swung his arm around again. "I fight because I want to defend myself and Richard, and if you think it's something more that's your issue."

"Fight me and it shows me that Beecher isn't as valuable to you as I thought." Vic paused his second strike. "She'd think you fighting isn't the answer, right? Don't you want her to know how you care by obliging to her views? If you fight me, you don't care about Beecher's feelings. If you fight me, you're defending Sara. If you fight me, Stone, you get kicked off the football team," Atlas smirked, knowing he had the softhearted Victor Stone where he wanted him. Once again that night, he roared, "Fight me, and you're dead, Stone!"

* * *

"And so he started swinging," Trenten concluded as Vic finished the tale.

"And so he started swinging," repeated Vic.

"But you were defending yourself," Roy logically commented.

"I may have thrown some punches and kicks," limply, Richard contributed.

Roy groaned as he reeled back on his heels.

"Dude, you can get in so much trouble for fighting," reported Trenten.

"Don't I know it," Tyson muttered under his breath.

"Plus, to make it worse," continued Vic. "Spike has a recording of it –proof of both of us fighting."

"Why didn't you help out Vic with Atlas, Richard?" Wally asked.

"I tried to, but Spike held me back for one. The minion has some muscle and knowledge of pressure points." Subconsciously, Richard rubbed his neck were a dark bruise and sore spot was forming due to the jabbing from Spike onto the specific point.

"And Atlas said that he'd go harder on me if he intervened," explained Vic.

"I didn't believe that, of course," piped in Richard, not wanting to appear cowardly, "but by the time I finally kicked away Spike, Tyson happened to enter."

"Like a guardian angel he entered," declared Vic with closed eyes but a hand raised in victory for emphasis. Tyson allowed a small smile to hit his face at the remark.

"My punishment for starting that fight last week involved me helping Professor Chang in the mornings, but he didn't need me, so I was reassigned to helping the janitor. I was out checking the sprinklers for him when I saw Atlas and Spike with them two," added Tyson calmly.

"So, why again aren't you reporting Atlas attacking you?" Wally asked, lost in the situation.

"That was partially my fault," Tyson commented. "He said he'd report that I'd been fighting, which would get me expelled at the least, since I'm already in it deep."

"But also he threatened if we reported, he'd tell coach of the fight and insist I started it," Vic added.

"As if the coach would believe him over you," Trenten said. "Tell the coach he started it."

"True, but since we both were involved, we'd both get kicked off the team. Coach has a strict no-fighting rule," groaned Vic as he flopped his arm over his eyes to help process this mess.

"You're choosing football over Atlas beating the crap out of you?" asked Tyson.

"Wouldn't you do the same for basketball, Hot Shot?"

Tyson nodded at the validity of the statement.

"Dang, that's messed up," commented Roy with a shake of his strawberry-blond head. "Thoroughly thought out for Atlas, too."

"Yeah, to come up with all the reasons of why he won't get reported," Trenten agreed.

"It's not ideal," Vic added.

"It's a rough situation all around," commented Richard as he exhaled in relief at the cold compress made up by the frozen veggies.

"Why do you have so much veg?" Wally asked.

"Guilty," claimed Trenten as he stood and stretched. "I love my vegetables before meets. It's late, I should hit the hay, sorry to bail on you."

"You're good," Richard confirmed with a small nod.

Just as Trenten entered the foyer to transition into his dorm, the door to hall burst open with Karen staring at some notes in her hand. She rambled into her question before glancing up.

"Hey, Tyson, I was working on the homework for geometry and couldn't find where we went over direct proofs. Could yo-" she stopped short when she noticed the scene of Tyson holding a bag of frozen carrots to replace a bag of peas, Trenten in his doorway with a guilty expression, and Wally and Roy's room transformed into a mini-hospital with the patients: Richard Grayson and Victor Stone.

"Quick," Roy ordered, "Shut the door and lock it so no one else can see or know." Trenten sprung through the small foyer and clamped the door securely in its latch. Then, he shuffled Karen into the dorm and closed that door.

"Explain yourself," she demanded before anyone else could move.

"Vic fought because of you, or, well…" offered Wally.

"Excuse me?" Karen inquired with attitude.

"He's not thinking straight," cut in Vic. "It was a football thing with Atlas."

Karen cocked her hips. "Explain yourself, and do it quickly, open dorms end in eleven minutes."

Like rapid fire during war, Vic, with the help of Tyson, retold the scenario and fight between the brutes and why it has to stay on the down low. Richard would have contributed, but he was dozing and lost in a world where his bruises weren't as throbbing with unconsciousness.

"That was incredibly stupid, choosing not to fight because of football," she commentated. "But I won't tell anyone since it's so important to you fellas that this stays hush hush. Whatever. I do need those geometry proof notes, Tyson."

"Right!" He dashed to his room, Trenten following, with Wally saying he needed the bathroom, and Roy saying he had to say goodnight to Jade before open dorms closed in four minutes.

"Part of the fight also involved Atlas wanting confirmation of me being done with Sara," Vic blurted. He kept the part of fighting for Karen out of the tale, and was planning on hiding the fact that Sara was involved as well, but the words tumbled out before he could stop the floodgate of confession.

"I'm still insanely furious at you and your decisions from the past few weeks, Stone," Karen began, "so don't go getting false hope that I've forgiven you or something."

"And you are so justified in that," encouraged Vic, propping his head as much as possible from his positive in the chair he was recovering in.

"I know," she stated to clarify that she didn't need his approval or opinions. "Realize that I am not happy with you being dumb enough to fight Atlas, and then randomly dropping to simply defending during the middle of it… but I am glad you didn't fight for her, for Sara."

"Me too."

She nodded and glanced at the floor where she was digging her socked feet.

"So you do geometry studying with Tyson now?"

"Ah, he and I have it the same hour, so it just works out for us to trade notes every now and then," Karen stated.

"Yeah, yeah, 'course," agreed Vic hollowly. "You know, I have it second hour, but it's the same teacher, so we could, you know, do the note trading sometime."

"Oh, yeah?"

"Yeah."

"Maybe."

"Really?" Vic asked with hope sparking in his chest.

"Maybe," she repeated, hints of a smile on her ruby lips. "You are the only person at this school who I study best with, but that's just due to work ethic, not…"

"Not like chemistry or anything," Vic offered.

"Right," she nodded with her agreement.

"Good," shrugged Vic in response.

"Got the notes!" Tyson announced with a minute and fifth teen seconds to spare before curfew, and Karen had to leave the boys' dorm for her own.

* * *

She didn't know what to do with the information Kitten Moth had presented her. Richard wouldn't use girls to get to how he wanted the press to see him, would he, wondered Kori? She thought she knew him better than that, but this information in the magazine told a different story. She, of course, knew that fabrication in publication was almost always a factor in a story, but in an interview, the story can only be twisted so much. The more she processed the situation, the more Kori settled on the fact of how Richard, and so many people, saw her: a ticket.

Angry at so many things, she flung the magazine and watched it thud near her backpack. She wished for answers, not just on who Richard was and was wanting out of her, but what was happening in Tameran. What was the possibility of her captures locating her, or worse, her loved ones back home? If her family was alive. If Foster was in danger. If there was anything she could do to help the warring situation other than join a cheer squad and pretend the hardest thing was homework.

She crumbled to the floor, leaning against her desk for support, but withheld the sobs. She would not cry. She was raised to not allow such trivial factors such as feelings influence decisions, but for some reason, when it came to Richard and her friends here in America, her upbringing easily slipped away from her. This being why when Rachel finally returned to school from her first day, and she raised a questioning brow at her roommate, Kori pasted on a cheery smile and replied that she was looking for a dropped hair tie.

"Is that worth crawling on the floor for?" realistically and skeptically, Rachel inquired.

"It is all that I have," replied Kori, thoughts still stuck on home. "I just wanted to have it once again."

"Usually I don't share, I'm not good at loaning things, but you're welcome to borrow one," offered Rachel, thrown off by Kori's peculiar reply.

"That is all right, roommate Rachel, I have moved on from needing it." She unwound her legs and creaked as she stood to her full height, a full two inches taller than the shorter Rachel. "Tell me, how was your day?"

Rachel opened her mouth to retort her typical 'fine,' but hesitated, it was more than that, honestly. She reflected over her day in Tea's Tome and allowed her memory of it to grow fond due to the fact of a certain employee.

"Better than expected."

* * *

Vic stalked into the school's main office, holding the note from the principal asking him here at this time in his large hand. How did they find out about the fight with Atlas from last night? Did someone squeal? Was he going to be kicked off the team? Expelled?

Toying with these thoughts, he also concluded that this Monday was not his day. He was quite sore from the tussle last night. Thankfully, though, no gashes were displayed and what bruises were seen can easily be tagged with football for an excuse. Karen wasn't initiating conversation or interaction even though he felt he earned it (possibly). Gar was a nervous wreck working up the courage to apologize to Rachel. Richard was moody with Kori's cold shoulder.

_Man, do women really mess up guys this much? _

"Come here often, big boy?" asked a familiar voice. Jinna Hex. Of course she was already in trouble and in the office for some misdemeanor. Girl got around; it was only first period.

_Apparently_.

"Hey, Jin," he greet verbally, no cheer in his statement, however.

"Whoa, who poured bitter flakes in your morning oatmeal?" she taunted with a quirked eyebrow at his grumpiness.

"Look, Jin, I'm not in the mood. Besides, I thought we ended things on the understanding of just being friends."

"Guess I can't greet you without you thinking that it's a marriage proposal," Jin sneered, rolling her eyes in the process.

"Forget it," he mumbled as the secretary motioned for him to enter the office of Principal Farr.

"Good morning, Victor," she chimed in her authoritative, but polite tone of voice.

"'Morning, Principal Farr," he answered. "What's this meeting about?"

"To the point," chimed another voice from a person Vic didn't notice or recognize. "I like that."

"Victor, allow me to introduce you to-"

"Allow me the honor of the introduction, Principal Farr," interrupted the stranger. "My name is Sebastian Blood, the headmaster at Herculean Intellective Victory Effectuation Academy. At the H.I.V.E. Academy, we stand for strength in the mind and talents in the successful pursuit of producing impeccable students, and we are very interested in your credentials, Victor Stone."

The next twenty minutes consisted of Master Sebastian, as he insisted to be called, spinning a web of interesting facts and stats of why Vic should transfer to the H.I.V.E. Academy.

At first, Vic was repulsed by the idea of leaving Titans Academy for the school he almost went to this year, but the thought of a fresh start –like what T.A. was suppose to be- sounded appealing. Transferring was so much work, though. He already shifted from Jump City's public high school to Titans Academy at the end of his freshmen year, and jumping mid-semester as a sophomore will make him look inconsistent and appear to have issues on papers for college, he concluded.

He thanked the H.I.V.E. Academy headmaster for his time, but declined the proposition, and left the office for the second period geometry that was looking more and more like a sanctuary the more he tried to mull over the headmaster's influence.

His haven was delayed as Jin practically jumped him as he exited the office area of the school and meandered towards the math classroom.

"Hey, Vic, wait up!" she called.

"What's the deal, Jin?"

"I saw Master Sebastian talking to you. He trying to recruit you to go to H.I.V.E.?" she asked breathlessly as she tried to keep with Vic's determined pace.

"How do you know so much about the head guy of our school's competition?" he retorted.

"Like you said," she replied after a pause. "They're competition. Got to know the enemy, right?"

"Whatever," he brushed off, not too concerned with Jin's tactics. "What's it to ya anyway?"

"It's just, I think H.I.V.E. is the place for you."

"Say what?" This brought him up short and paused his walk, unintentionally giving Jin both a breath and the foothold she needed.

"Titans Academy is a winning school, yeah, everyone knows that. If you graduate from here, you'll be a winner lost in a crowd of other winners. Take your suitemate, Richard Grayson for example. You throw your cap beside his, and you'll be left in the dust. Socialite heir to billions trumps guy who can toss a pigskin any day."

Vic narrowed his eyes, and stared hard at the girl donning pigtails for her pinkish locks and cat eyeliner styled make-up. "Why are you promoting another school? What's your angle, little lady?"

"No angle," she answered too quickly. "And just because I attend a school, doesn't mean I'm even a fan of the one I'm enrolled in, or blind to other options for that matter." Jin shrugged and clasped her hands behind her back and slowly stepped backwards. "Here, at Titans Academy, you're the Great Vic Stone, awesome football player, classmate to the Wayne Empire heir on way to make the big bucks immediately, but anywhere else where you're the star? Great wouldn't even begin to describe your excellence and the notice colleges would give you. Just something to think about, Vic."

Dumbly, he stood in the middle of the hall and had to have his name called twice before he registered that someone else was speaking to him. The office lady was babbling about how swamped she was since it was Monday and if he could show some new kid named Grant around. Vic complied and gave a tour of Titans Academy to the guy who was friendly enough and Vic had warmed up to nearing the end of the building.

"All right, so now that you've seen the tower, want me to show you where your classes are?" Vic offered.

"Nah, I'll be okay. Thanks, though," Grant replied casually. "I need to get on over to…" he glanced at his schedule briefly, "geometry. Oh, whoops, that was first period. My current class is science with Chang."

"Ooh," exhaled Vic in response. "Math first hour is tough, but it's even worse with those who have geometry at that time this semester. It's a rough crowd," he warned.

"I can hold my own," Grant assured as he shrugged his backpack higher onto his shoulders. He's never had to don a backpack before since his master never really let him go to school and simply homeschooled –if you could call his training that.

"Aite, sounds good, man. Best of luck with that and with entering Chang's science lab. You have it with my buddy Richard so you may survive," Vic commentated as he classically clamped his large, brown hand on the newcomer's shoulder. "See you around, and let me know if you need anything. Oh, wait. Eat lunch with my buddies and me," offered he as he pulled out a pen and scribbled on Grant's schedule where the lunch period was listed, the location where he munched with the gang.

"Perfect," Grant managed out, overwhelmed with the speed of this scheme's progression. "I'll see you there if we don't have any morning classes together until then."

Vic soon disappeared down the hall and Grant allowed his head to thud against the wall as he processed the crazy morning of preparing for this Operation Enrollment spectacle and all that it entails.

This whole situation was strange, and, honestly, Grant just wanted Operation Enrollment to progress to the point where he could step back so then his employer takes over the scheme. Grant was tiring of plotting and studying and manipulating, and dreadfully feared that this operation involving him in an average setting could tick away the patience of serving his master and having to hide the craving for a typical teenage life.

He pushed aside those dreary thoughts and smirked at the aspect of having Richard Grayson everyday in science class. His employer didn't miss a detail in placement, that's for sure.

* * *

"Hey, Rachel," chimed Gar as he knocked on the door leading to her and Kori's dorm. "Um, it's like almost noon, and you haven't left your room since last night, and in case you're still mad, I'm going to go ahead and say it: I'm sorry for calling you creepy on Saturday," he apologized through the closed door. It was lunchtime Monday, and Gar hadn't seen Rachel in any of their morning classes despite the report from Kori that she was well.

It was also news to the crew that Rachel landed a job, but no one was certain where at since the employed girl kept her lips zipped on that matter as well. Rachel had been absent from everyone's paths, but especially Gar, and that only sickened him even more. He didn't know why he told Rachel she was creepy. He didn't understand the girl half the time, but she didn't deserve to be called names. He knew he was taking his anger and bitterness at Trenten Brooks out on her in that moment, and that wasn't fair. But how was he to apologize if she wasn't going to respond to him?!

With strained ears against the door, he could have sworn he heard a whisper in a male octave and Rachel's reply with giggling, but guys can't go in girl dorms during school hours and vice versa, and Rachel always obeyed the rules.

Curious, he kept on knocking. "Um, Rachel, is every-"

"What?" Finally, she demanded with the door barely cracked for him to make eye contact with her violet orbs.

"Hi," he awkwardly began. To be honest, he didn't fully expect her to come to the door. "Uh, I heard you… laughing," he lamely explained, "and I thought I heard… Is there someone in there?" Gar tried to peer through the crevice and peek inside to her room for his own inspection of the situation.

"Just me, and a really good book," she replied in a passive voice in order to sway him into leaving.

"Oh, well, um, I just wanted to make sure you're okay," he continued. "You didn't come to dinner after your new work shift yesterday, and you missed your morning classes today."

"Better than okay. Way better." And with that aloof explanation, the door clicked back into position.

Gar stood there speechless. Before he could sulk away, he overheard Rachel talking.

"Sorry about that, Malchior, he won't be bothering us again."

"Malchior?" Gar whispered to himself. "Who's Malchior?"

Rachel strutted across the room and squatted back onto the ground where Malchior sat with his legs crossed and a book he discovered at the end of his shift yesterday that he wanted to show Rachel. He popped by after Kori left for first hour and they got so engrossed in the _Tale of Rorek _book_, _that time completely lost its meaning.

Malchior chuffed at Rachel's response to the intrusion. "It's quite alright, Rachel. Actually, we better get going if we want to get something to eat before it's time for fifth period."

"I can't believe we read right on through British Literature," Rachel stated in slight embarrassment at her flighty brain this Monday.

"Mod will forgive us; we're his best students," brushed away Malchior with a confidant smile. "I have him next period anyhow for my history lecture, and can get the assignment from today for us. We can work on it during shift this afternoon or have a study session after work."

Rachel smiled at his schedule suggestion, and stood back up to her feet. Malchior raised an arm in silent question for assistance to stand up as well, and she grabbed his wrist and helped pull the tall, upperclassman to his feet.

"Thank you. I like you helping me to my feet rather than knocking me down," he jested in reference to their collision Saturday when he offered her the job at the shop.

She blushed at his comment. "I like this arrangement better myself."

Malchior grinned in reply. He looped her bag onto his shoulder and then held the door for her in exit.

* * *

Richard leaned forward over the lunch table and snatched a stray straw wrapper. He crumbled it and poked it into his straw and huffed it drily to Kori's arm. She has been deliberately ignoring him all morning through history and geometry classes, and now not a word has been spoken from her to him during lunch; thus, he had to resort to junior high ways of seizing the girl's attention. Kori jolted at the sudden bombardment and glared at the piece of paper and the sender.

"Hey, it could have been a spit wad and much sloppier," Richard defended when he saw he had her focus.

"Hmph," she sighed and brushed the ball across the table back to Richard.

"Kori, can we talk?"

"Leave me be so I may finish eating my meal," she fibbed as Richard glanced at the tray that only held empty wrappers and a few crumbs from her sandwich. "I need to get to class," she delayed again and grabbed her tray and began to move for the exit.

"Oh, no you don't," he mumbled to himself as he leapt off the cafeteria chair and bounded after her as soon as he untangled himself from the mound of backpacks beside the table. She was leaning onto the handle that released the door out of the cafeteria when Richard latched onto her arm. She halted her escape and glanced at his hand on her. He realized that his grip was unnecessary; he immediately unclasped the hold and took a half step away from the close proximity. "We need to talk, Kori, please. We have plenty of time before class starts." She didn't say anything, but meandered through the door and into the closest study nook for a discussion.

"Proceed," she ordered with crossed arms and a miffed expression upon her tan face. He didn't like what the scowl was doing to her features, but this was the first time he has ever seen her chirper attitude fall under grumpiness –save their first meeting in Europe over the summer and her first day (could that truly be just last week?).

"Kor," began Richard with his eyes narrowing for the effect of accusing, "all I did was say that you could trust me, and then you wig out and hang the phone up on me. Now you're completely avoiding me? What's the deal?"

"Wig out?"

"Get intimated," he quietly explained despite his irritation at her.

"Yes," she answered in confidant tone. "I am intimated in trusting a boy I met a week ago in a foreign country while my homeland is being attacked with the verge of war about to conduct, and me not being able to do anything about it, is that what you wish me to profess to, Richard?" she snapped, eyes narrowing as well.

"You just stated the exact reason why you need to trust me, Kori," Richard defended, hands out by his side to signify openness. "You have no one, I don't really either, we're a great dynamic."

"Why is it so important to you that I trust you and become your friend?"

This question took him aback; why did he?

"I don't know," he ran his hand through his jet black locks and glanced away for a moment of regrouping his thoughts since this girl had a tendency of making him scattered in thought and deed. "I guess because I think you're nice and fun and want to get to know you."

Kori eyed him as she tilted her head to the side and analyzed his statement.

"Also, because I know what it's like to be alone, as I told you on the phone the other day, my parents died, Kor, they're gone. When I needed a place to sleep, yeah, Bruce took me in, but I felt so alone in that huge mansion, because he only took me in to be a positive spin for the public image. I don't want anyone else to feel like they're alone or being used, especially if she's as lost and as confused as I am," Richard confessed, eyes pleading her to believe him. Kori's face remained unreadable; she was not accepting or rejecting what he had to say. Her silence allowed him to be aware of the ventilation whirling through the air, her even breathing, and a noise in the hallway be heard.

"I do appreciate you helping me," replied Kori after a few more beats of silence, "but I do not want to be the way to a good public image for you, Richard. I know how the media works, and how much influence you have in the presses. I know that Roy Harper had publicity hype with getting a friend of the girl, but then the tabloids stopped digging for the relationship story as time progressed. I do not want to be your way to get what you want from the press," she stated with valid points.

Bewildered, Richard processed the angle Kori just presented to him. He applauded her cleverness for piecing together all the above, but couldn't let her presume he was under the same category. "Kori, I swear that is not why I befriended you."

"Then what is this?" Kori questioned, tone hardening as she flung out a magazine onto the coffee table that separated them in the study nook. Confused, Richard glanced at the magazine and groaned as he read the headline: _Boy Wonder wondering about girls: Can the gorgeous Grayson find a date?_ "It even includes a quiz to tell if one is Richard Grayson's 'type' or not, and how successful the date would be," she reported bitterly.

"How'd you score?" he teased, but then glanced at Kori's face and realized that jokes would have to wait. Now he knew how Gar felt when no one chortled at his jests. "I'm sorry, that was rude of me."

"That is correct."

"I did an interview with Bruce over the weekend, and I guess this is what they wanted to report. There was a solid hour of good material of me discussing sports and school, why'd they choose this?" Richard was upset at this whole situation and strongly regretting the interview performed forty-eight hours ago, but he felt duped as well. He of all people should have seen this spin on the story from the material presented in the interview.

"Because romance sells," firmly, Kori declared with a serious expression. "It can be created and destroyed and manipulated –all done by the media. Tabloids cannot twist sport records or a GPA, but they can corrupt a picture of you with a girl at a particular moment and frame it as your next fling, which you are in favor of more than a relationship, apparently."

"What?! No, I distinctly remember saying I prefer a relationship," aghast, Richard replied.

Kori frowned and bent to retrieved the magazine holding the answers and read in an irritated tone, "The interviewer asked, 'So there is a girl?' And you reply with: 'There are quite a variety of girls…'" Kori chucked the magazine to the ground. "That does not spell relationship, Richard, and that is coming from the perspective of someone not accustomed to American dating relationships. This statement of yours points to a fling, a hook-up, a one-night stand, a broken heart, a news story that sells."

"Please believe me when I say that that is not what I meant," he requested. Her arms were crossed in both indignation and protection. How was he going to fix this? Why was he so desperate to get into her good graces anyway? Unsure why he pursued her, he replied. "I was trying to answer the question without revealing that there _is_ a girl who I've been getting close to, but don't want to date. I know how the media works, too, Kor, and I knew that if I said how we're becoming friends, they'd investigate you until you had just a thread of privacy," stressed Richard as he took a step around the coffee table dividing them and towards Kori who visibly paled at his statement. "That's why I tried to spin it into the friendzone and with a variety of girls so no one will instantly peg you. I..." He had been taking slow steps closer to her, and she didn't scram as he neared, but stiffened as he enclosed the proximity. Richard released a breath as he gently, but hesitantly confessed, "I did it for you."

He cautiously began to wrap his arms around her, but Kori wrested herself from him before even the most briefest of embraces could be exchanged. She quickly took a step back and glanced away in order to conceal her tears welling in her emerald orbs.

"That is very nice of you, friend Richard, to protect me in such a way as possibly injuring your own public image," she acknowledged with a small nod, eyes still diverted from his inquiring face.

Richard allowed a small smile to cross his lips as he mentally backtracked to the past morning. "So was that why you were angry at me?" He gestured to the fallen magazine on the floor.

"Yes," admitted Kori as she slowly shifted her eyes to connect with his sapphire ones. "I confess that trusting another is a big thing to ask of me, so that did intimidate me, but then when I saw this magazine later on… I doubted what I was to you. And Kitten presented me the idea that you were trying to copy Roy Harper in the getting a friend of the girl. I apologize for unjustly accusing you of these things printed here. I should have talked to you about them first."

Richard raised his eyebrows at her apology; he wasn't used to people falsely thinking something of him and then being sorry about it. Typically, people just falsely think something of him and then print it in the tabloids as just happened.

In his signature serious tone, he declared to Kori: "I promise I am not becoming your friend to use you as a ticket for good public image. Promise."

Kori examined the past few moments of his honesty and sincerity. She considered these things as she slowly responded, arms unraveling much like her defenses, "I will try to trust you more as a friend." She returned his smile just as the bell rang signaling for fifth period to start in five minutes.

"And, hey, the next time I do or say something stupid and you're mad at me about it, don't give me the cold shoulder, ah, don't ignore me, okay?" Richard corrected his non-literal metaphor quickly in the new line of trust he was establishing with her.

"Deal," she beamed.

"Walk to art class with me?" Richard inquired, offering his arm to Kori for escorting. She extended her hand delicately towards his awaiting limb, but recoiled on second thought.

Richard brushed aside the slight offense he took at her denying him just right after she promised to trust him more, but he simply nodded and asked if he could carry her books to which she obliged, and they casually strolled to art with a solid friendship blossoming on truth and trust.

Granted, he did fib a smidge about why he was walking so stiff and had a few discolored skin spots he told her was entitled a bruise. Sure Richard trusted Kori, but he wasn't sure if she fully grasped the secrecy of the situation. So he told her he worked out hard last night, which he did in the gym with Vic. He didn't like leaving behind truths to Kori, but it was for the best, he convinced himself.

* * *

Two days later on Wednesday, en route to fourth period geometry, Antonia Monetti called out to Richard. "Hey, Grayson, can I chat with you for a minute?" huffed Toni as Richard and Kori were about to enter the classroom.

"Sure." He nodded at Kori who glanced at him for confirmation to go on ahead and take a seat before the late bell rang. "What's up?"

"I have to confess, mate, I overheard part of your conversation on Monday with Miss Sunshine," Toni admitted.

"What part?" he asked sharply, defenses raised.

"Just a portion involving the press," Toni honestly reported. "I dropped my purse and was picking up the contents when I overheard you two duking it out."

"What about it?" Richard crossed his arms, ready for _this_ conversation to be over.

"I just wanted to affirm that to you," she stated. "And to say that I know what you're going through."

"Huh," he considered her apologetic statement. "No worries."

"Thanks, mate," she chimed and turned to leave.

"Wait."

"Yes?"

"How do you do it? Keep the press out of your love life and friendships?"

"Years of practice," smirked Toni. She noticed that he didn't immediately laugh and shook herself out of her Antonia Monetti mode of answering interviews in, and slipped into her Toni state. She tucked her ebony hair behind her pale ear as she replied earnestly. "I love my friends, right?"

"Yeah."

"So I want to protect them," Toni continued, "and to do that with the rules of upper-class society are two ways: have a big social life, so the press feels like they're my friend and don't need to investigate more, or have a relationship that they can devote to. Regardless, it's to protect who I love most."

"Fake relationships?"

"Not fake, just not as romantically invested as the other guy might be," she admitted with a soft, half-smile and loose shrug. "It's the price we have to pay to live in the spotlight, mate."

"So if I were to get more involved with Bruce's social life, appear more on covers, befriend the press to a point, they will lay off scouring Titans Academy for scoops?" Richard asked, enlightened to this perspective of the media and to this side of Toni despite knowing her and running her socialite circle for years.

"My guess would be yes," answered she with a small nod.

"Why would being involved more in the scene make the press less interested?"

"Hm, maybe because they feel like they don't have to search for the scoop any longer. Maybe because they can feed off the tiniest piece of information, and if they have it all, you can't feed them and they then starve. But every case is different," she reminded as the warning bell rang. "Like with you, mate, having almost never revealing anything about yourself, a sentence of confession on your favorite movie could have them fed and happy for a week, I bet."

"Interesting," he mused. "Thanks for the tips, Toni."

"Let me know how it works out, mate," she softly said, high air of the heiress dropping for a moment, replaced with her genuine smile. "Now let's investigate the scoop on this geometry." He laughed at her jest and bowed jokingly to allow her pass into the classroom.

* * *

Professor Chang droned on and on about who knows what as the minutes delicately and ever-so-slowly ticked by in science for Vic. His head had been pounding for the past twenty minutes, but that could be from Gar whispering theories to him about some guy name Malchar or something.

More than likely though, the throbbing was rooted in the H.I.V.E. proposal that has been bombarding Vic's every thought. Plus, it was just an overall odd week. Monday, Vic was called to the office to discuss possibly transferring with Master Sebastian, and then Jin advertised the dang school as soon as he left. He showed a new kid, Grant, around who casually mentioned H.I.V.E. and praised it before disappearing into his new first hour.

For the first time ever, Billy Numerous struck up a conversation with Vic that wasn't bashing him or degrading him, and he said something about the H.I.V.E. as well during history. Seymour Isaac made a point in second hour to mention to Vic about the weather and the H.I.V.E. too. In third period, Kyndyl Wick, or Kyd, offered him a nod and then Grant made comment how he knew Kyd and that they had ties with the academy. Again, Kyd acknowledged him as he and Grant entered fourth hour for computers. Vic evacuated the classroom as soon as the bell rang and forgot to wait for Grant to take him to lunch.

Eventually, Grant found his way to Vic who sat with a quiet Kori, moody Richard, and Gar who gobbled his food down in record time with the excuse of needing to go talk to Rachel. Roy, Jade, Wally, Kole, Clay, and Trenten soon joined the table and all were friendly to Grant. Jin shot a wink to Vic as he got up to toss his trash, implementing the headache as if she hexed him. And this was all just Monday.

Similar treatment and quips about H.I.V.E. came from Jin, Baran, Seymour, Tommy, Billy, and hypothetically Kyd all week in various deliveries. Now it was Wednesday, his temples felt like a hammer sledged them with no light of hand, and Professor Chang's lecture aided in nothing but fueling Vic's impatience.

Karen Beecher was at the status of acknowledging his existence, but that was only if it was crucial. Thankfully, so far she hasn't spilled about the brawl with Atlas from Sunday night, but he wasn't sure if her hurt from him would soil that secrecy in due time. Until football season was over, at least, he had to trust she was the better person and could keep her mouth clamped on the matter.

Additionally, she still hasn't approached him about geometry notes; observing that she and Tyson still swapped that information regularly. He'd be a liar if the fact that she now resorted to other people for homework and studying didn't bother him.

* * *

"Wanna give this guy the sonic boom?" Richard asked Vic with a smirk. He, Vic, Kori, Rachel, and Gar stood stoically –or bored, too- on the squeaky gym floor facing off Sid Block, the only remaining opponent from the other team in the dodge ball game.

"I got the sonic if you got the boom," Vic baited to the other half of his gym-winning duo, Richard, who grinned in return.

"Let's do it," he smirked, knowing that between Vic's and his throwing arms, they'll dominate the dodge ball match easily –winning bonus points for their team and getting to leave for the lockers early.

"He has a what?" Kori inquired in confusion to Rachel. They stood behind the line of the guys who were taking gym class way too seriously.

"It's a move Vic and Richard created," explained Rachel in a dry voice, not bothering to hide her eye roll at the actions of the guy teammates.

"Way cool, too," piped in Gar as he dodged a tired toss from Sid on the opposing team. The match had lasted nearly all class period, and both sides were ready to be done for the day.

"Ready?" called Richard to Vic; they stood on opposite sides of the court short ways.

A giggle rang out and Vic made the mistake of glancing to the sidelines where Sara stood wearing a gym t-shirt that was Atlas's since it was obviously much to large for her. This wasn't what bothered him, though, surprisingly, it was the scene beside the flirt: Karen was chatting the hour away with Tyson Joto. How many geometry notes have been swapped for _giggling_ to occur?!

"Vic? Ready?" Richard hollered again, antsy at losing their opportune time to dominate the match as Sid was analyzing their moves and nodded at something someone from the sideline said to him about the match.

Vic yanked his eyes from the sidelines and nodded. Both boys ran towards each other. They veered and Richard planted his foot in the hand cradle formed by Rachel's grip while Vic used Gar's hands to kick off resulting in the duo to do a quick backflip. In theory, while they were flipping, they'd chuck the dodge balls at the unsuspecting and distracted Sid. Unfortunately, they both collided with each other before a toss could be completed, making the throw limp and Sid able to easily catch it.

"Hey, hey, look at this," chimed Johnny as he entered the game since his teammate caught the enemy's ball. "Freedom," he gloated as he clutched a dodge ball in each of his meaty and clammy fists that are accustomed to griping motorcycle bars.

Rachel sighed, cocked her weight to her hip and calmly flicked her ball towards the new player who wasn't paying attention to the meek player.

"Think again," she sniped when her throw made contact with Johnny's back shoulder. He groaned and marched back to the bench and all but pouted at being out again.

"New player back in?" commented Gar with a smirk at the opposing team. "I don't see any new player."

"None of us would have seen one if Vic hadn't messed up," accused Richard as he crossed his arms.

He knew he was blowing the situation out of proportion, but if there were two things the Boy Wonder despised most it would be losing and having Bruce on his back. And both were factors right now as just before class started, he got off the phone with Mr. Wayne who demanded Richard get more headlines the way Roy Harper had due to his flame with Jade; also, the media was beginning to peg Richard as a flinger or playboy with the most recent magazine interview, and Bruce suggested how this could be a new angle for Richard to take for publicity. Thus, mounting to Richard's temperament and Vic being on the receiving end of the short fume.

"Me?!" Vic retaliated, anger boiling Richard's accusations, his head hurting, and all of the swamping with the H.I.V.E. Academy hitting him lately. "I messed up nothing! You got in my way."

"You were too far forward in the jump, and Sid caught the ball because of it," Richard pointed out as he angrily faced his roommate.

Vic narrowed his eyes and asked through gritted teeth, "You sayin' this is my fault?"

"Want me to say it again?" Richard dared with mirrored expression of anger.

"Stop," interjected Kori, disliking the hateful atmosphere this conversation was taking on. She didn't notice Sid hurl one of his missiles at her, squarely nailing her stomach. "No more mean talking," she commanded with a gentle tone, but each boy turned from the other, giving Gar room to slip in as Kori had to go take her respective place in the section for those hit and out of the game.

"Yeah, if you two are gonna fight, we need time to sell tickets," Gar jested, not helping the boiling situation, right before Sid threw a ball getting the green-streaked boy out as well. Then, Sid chucked a final ball at the bickering boys that nailed Richard's arm and bounced to slam Vic in the chest before falling to the ground –resulting in both of them out regardless of whose ball Sid initially caught.

"Look at that, you cost us the game," Richard snapped to his roommate.

"I cost the game? It was your ball that he caught in the first place," Vic accused, eyes narrowed into furious slits.

"Sid caught a dodge ball and got one of you out, then he threw a ball that neither one of you caught so he got both of you out. No amount of yelling will fix that, so stop acting like idiots, and let's get out of here," reasonably, Rachel commentated to the group, hoping no one registered that she never was hit with a dodge ball and was technically still in play of the game. Regardless, she strutted off the gym floor in example to her steaming teammates to do the same.

Vic pivoted and stomped away from Richard who was doing the same in his opposite direction. Kori glanced at Rachel for an explanation, but she only sighed and shook her head as if watching the boys get competitive and take it too seriously was typical.

After they had changed back into their regular clothes from the gym attire, the five sat on the same bench waiting for the dismissal bell, with Richard on the far end and Vic practically on the ground he was so far on edge on the other side.

"Was the game ever resolved?" Kori asked, unaware of the can of worms she was hypothetically opening with her inquiry.

"No, because Richard and Vic were too busy arguing, and then Sid got us all out," grumbled Gar. He was really hoping to earn those extra credit points.

"Let's drop the subject," Rachel advised, nose buried in the novel Malchior loaned her. His taste in books paralleled hers handily.

Still bitter, Richard grumbled quietly, "Loser" simultaneously with Vic huffing "Jerk." Both insults reached the respective boys' ears and they bolted up from the bench and were at each other's throats in milliseconds, both demanding, "What did you say?!"

"You have a problem, baldie?" Richard spat.

"Yeah, it's a spoiled snob with daddy issues and smells like cheap hair gel," accused Vic, knowing right where his words will hit his suitemate.

"This was not cheap," Richard seethed as he gestured gruffly to his hair.

"Coulda fooled me," wisecracked Vic.

"Well, you're an oversized clutz, and your feet smell like motor oil," Richard, immaturely replied. At this point, half the class was paying attention to the verbal brawl. Kori, Rachel, and Gar, stunned, sat on the bench still, not sure how to jump in to make peace.

"You're bossy, you're rude, you got no taste in music," Vic continued to rant as onlookers gaped at the scene of two of the most put together males crumble over a dodge ball match. Granted, the crowd wasn't factoring in Vic's headache, lack of Karen Beecher's friendship, and all the throws of this school at him, or with Richard's frustration at Bruce, the media, and himself for not handling situations with his friends –specifically Kori- in the way he wished.

"You play people, you don't commit to your friends, and you slack off on all work except sports or your car. I don't even know why you're at this school," Richard belted with fury.

"That makes two of us," stated Vic. A series of moments from Karen's indignation, to Sara's scheme of using him, to Atlas's horrid treatment and bashing on him, to Master Blood's words about not progressing since Richard was in his grade all swirled inside Vic's exhausted mind. He boomed a retort to hush up Richard as the dismissal bell rang, "I'm transferring!"

As Vic gave a new definition to storming off as he exited the gym before the dismissal bell rang, Kori and Gar shared gasps, Rachel actually dropped her book, and Richard hung his head. No one dared utter a word.

Moments later, the period ended, and the students silently filed out of the gym, however, Sid hung back and swatted Grant, the new kid, on the back shoulder in greeting. "Thanks for the tips on how to get those fleas out of the game," Sid stated.

"No problem," replied Grant as he straightened with a grimace from Sid's hit that was meant to be friendly.

"Shame you couldn't play due to health issues," commented Sid. Grant awkwardly stared at Sid for a brief moment in confusion, but soon shook his head as he recalled that he had to fib an excuse to help generate the gears in Sid's head about deficiencies; it was part of Operation Enrollment assigned by his employer.

"Yep, shame."

"How did you know they'd do that trick when they would?" Sid asked, he wasn't the brightest on the block, but he did know that predicting other people's actions in a dodge ball match can be a bit blurry.

"Oh, you know," shrugged Grant as he attempted to shove mental images of the tactics and habits of those on the opposite team he has memorized due to hours of observation under his master. "Just lucky, I guess."

"We could use your kind of luck," suggested a newcomer, Baran Flinders. "Are you free this evening? We need to have a chat." Sid parted and Grant waited until he was out of earshot before continuing.

"A chat about what?" Grant inquired, ears perking at the direction of this conversation.

"I can't reveal too much since I'm not really in charge, but let's just say your health issues don't have to hold you back if you join my friends and me. Drop by this room after class; you'll need this password. Your status will be decided from there." Baran jotted down the password on a scrap of notebook paper and shoved it into Grant's hand. "See you later."

Grant waved farewell to Baran and glanced at the password: _Hive alive._

He wickedly grinned as the plan was falling perfectly into place –just as the master predicted and orchestrated it to. Slyly, he lifted his watch to his mouth as he whispered into the microphone hidden in the wrist, "Sir, the pawns moved a step forward and the stone is falling to the honey. Plus, the robin is flying west."

"Excellent," the master replied in Grant's earpiece. "As you get accepted into our little Hive gang, Victor Stone is transferring to H.I.V.E., and the Boy Wonder is distracted. Perfect."

* * *

Jade released a sigh as she flopped her head onto the textbook she was currently attempting to read.

"Something the matter?" questioned Roy from the other side of the couch they perched on in the study nook that evening.

"Yes," she exclaimed. "This is so lame. We are _actually_ studying."

"Kay…"

"We are sophomores in high school and I'm dating the adoptive son to the Oliver Queen fortune, and we are studying," she explained as she began to pace the small space.

"I'm not tracking."

Jade sighed again, but ceased her power walk when a magazine on the ground, partially caught under the chair, caught her eye. She scanned the cover and flipped to the pages that were dog-eared as marked.

The Boy Wonder article gave her an idea. "I want to go on a date," bluntly, Jade demanded.

"We're dating," Roy stated in explanation, and resumed skimming his notes.

"No," she insisted and yanked away his paper. "We've been dating, but never out on a date. Like food, dressed up, a movie, something. A date."

"What about it?"

"I want one. I've never been on one and you're my boyfriend, so," she shrugged and crossed her arms to mold into her intimidating stance.

"Where do you want this date to partake?" Roy asked, amused at Jade's actions.

"Anywhere, but the tower," she exasperated. "A movie, a play, food, the park, I'm not picky."

"Okay, let's go to-"

"Uh-huh," Jade interrupted and made a shushing gesture over his lips. "I want to be surprised."

"So demanding," he good-naturedly griped. "When?"

"Now."

"Now?"

"Now."

"But it's Wednesday."

"Wednesday's are great date days, I'm sure," Jade retaliated. "Let's go." She tossed the magazine over her head as she pivoted and exited the study nook.

Roy slumped in his seat and rubbed his hands over his face. "Women," he muttered just before Jade dropped his backpack onto his gut, making him groan and flinch and reconsider this whole dating thing for a moment.

"C'mon, Arrow Boy," she enticed in a singsong voice and grabbed his hand in effort to yank him off the couch.

"Go change into something nice," he stated; he didn't budge despite her efforts in attempting to move him. When she released her grip on his hand and stared in question at him, Roy stood and stated. "Put on a fancy dress. You're going to have a great first date, Jade Nguyen."

An hour later, they entered _A la Chandelle _restaurant looking like a power couple. Jade, in a dress color that matched her name of an A-line style was both elegant and empowering; a black leather jacket that hit her ribcage and ebony ankle booties with straps and studs finished her daring attire. Long, onyx hair styled simply straight and down framed her Vietnamese face of fierce eyeliner and lip game that gave her a tough edge to her girly look. Roy looked dashing his deep red button up, rolled gentlemanly at the elbows even though the suit jacket of black covered that classy touch. Charcoal Chelsea dress shoes and slacks covered his bright yellow socks. A gold pocket hankie poked from the jacket's next enough to compliment the gold watch with arrows for the minute and hour hands that graced his wrist to complete his look.

Numerous patrons turned from their meals to investigate the incoming company and were surprised to see such a young duo, but the boy, who many recognized as Roy Harper (his reddish locks and smooth complexion on the lean body give his identity away if his confidence and multitude of dollars didn't) had no hesitation or issue requesting a specific table and a certain waiter as soon as his million dollar toes touch the flooring of _A la_ _Chandelle_, one of the fanciest and nicest restaurants in the city.

"Wow," was all Jade commented, not bothering to hide her intrigue at the fancy decorations, as soon as they were seated and settled with the tastiest sparkling juice Jade had ever sipped. As the stares slowly shifted away and Roy ordered in perfect French a round of appetizers and some item called escargot for them, Jade uncomfortably shifted and simply muttered another 'wow' but couldn't help think: _What did I get myself into?_

* * *

"This is Vic. I'm either in the gym, playing _GameStation_, or kicking butt on the field. Leave a message."

"Hello, Vic! Pick up!" Gar demanded into the phone as he paced insistently. "C'mon, Vic, pick up." Dejectedly, he dropped the phone and flopped on the large couch in the living room space of the tower.

"Here, taste," offered Kori. Before he could say anything, she shoveled in a large helping of the foreign food into Gar's mouth. Immediately he rolled off the couch and spat the food onto the floor and scraped his tongue obsessively in desperation of ridding the retched tasted from his mouth.

"Ugh!" He exclaimed in disgust. "What is that? Cream of toenails?"

"Pudding of Sadness," Kori explained to Gar, holding the spoon high. "It is what the people of country eat when bad things happen." She glided over to her roommate who was secluded at the high-top table in the eating area of the living room space. "Try! The displeasing taste will ease your troubled mind."

"My mind is never troubled," insisted Rachel in her signature monotone "People come, people go. It's pointless to be upset about Vic."

Kori glanced at Rachel's hands that had unknowingly crumpled the paper she was working on.

"What?" Rachel asked as if her ruining her homework was casually normal. Even though Kori has been at this school a short while, she knew Rachel didn't show her emotions or would ever damage her hard work for school.

Unsure of how to get to the root of Rachel's issues, she meandered to Richard who stood at the large window wall in the space. "Here, Richard, you must need this most of, since, well…" somehow, Kori felt that her attempt at comforting the Boy Wonder might not be her words or the food.

"I'm fine," gruffly, he insisted. "Who knows? Maybe we're better off without him." He stalked away, but Kori could tell he tread not as lightly as he typically does.

* * *

Nervously, Grant knocked on the entrance to the dorm. The door didn't open, but somehow Jinna Hex was suddenly beside him.

"No one's in there, but glad you came," she chimed. "Baran is a great team member, but not the brightest. Not sure why he gave you my dorm when we're in the boys' dorm," Jin explained with an eye roll. "You got a word for me?"

"Oh, uh, hive alive," stumbled Grant.

"Follow me."

Grant followed the slender girl with long, pink hair parted in two and held with high ribbons. She wore a dark cardigan that flowed behind her and covered her plain back top. Black and purple striped tights encompassed her legs that were tucked in heavy looking boots. Jin's look reminded Grant something that of a shifty cat or magical being almost, but she also could hold the look of innocence too, he predicted.

"Here we are." She pushed open her door and flowed over the foyer to the room on the right. Grant entered, and wasn't sure what to expect (darkness, candles, cups of blood, illegal substances, a book to sign over his soul), but he was not expecting just an average room for guys. It was slightly messy, but the clothes were pushed into piles on the side and the food trash was mainly surrounding what resembled a garbage can. In the room sat Baran and some other guys he recognized from the observing sessions with his employer and now from class.

"Introductions," kicked off Jin. "This is Kyndyl Wick, but he goes by Kyd. Don't expect him to say much." She gestured to the silent boy beside Grant, _Also known as the Sixth Subject._

She then shot a look at a guy who swooned, or possibly withered, at her gaze and blushed as he stuttered to begin.

"I-I'm Seymour Isaac," he introduced. _Greetings, Subject 5_, Grant silently added.

Grant nodded and his eyes fell on the next person, _Subject 4,_ and he couldn't help but ask, "And how old are you?" The files and observances didn't provide that information for some reason.

"I skipped some grades, you barf brain."

"That's Tommy Gizmo," Jin cut in. "A genius, but not always hospitable." He shrunk when Jin –the obvious leader- gave him a look, but he still grumbled immaturely like a junior high kid.

"Howdy, Billy Numerous here." _Third Subject._

"You know me, I'm Baran Flinders." _Pleasure, Subject 2_. Baran/Subject 2 was burly, wore a simple black tee that had an appropriately fitting mammoth cartoon on it, and had long, unkempt orange hair.

"And I'm Jin," she finished. _The glorified Subject Number One._ "Welcome."

* * *

Miffed, Jade perched stiffly in Roy's car on the journey back to the school from the restaurant. Not a word was uttered between the pair. The date night could not have gone worse.

First, Jade felt out of place the uppity eatery where normal, non-sparkling or carbonated water was only found in the tab of the bathrooms that the attendant turned. Roy did not explain the protocol, the food, or why he chose the place. True, Jade failed to ask in the first place, but that's beside the point.

Then, Roy spent a solid ten minutes chatting it up with some ostentatiously dressed, platinum blonde floozy, who insisted she was interested in the Oliver Queen business and asked for an interview. When they, Roy and Jade, finally were able to converse after the frump flittered away, they literally spoke on such shallow subjects. How was your day? Archery practice was good. When is dance practice? Not soon enough. I like the lighting in here. It's not called The Candle Lit in French for sheer looks. Nothing deep, nothing personal, nothing even interesting.

The cherry on top was the disgusting food from the animals Jade didn't know could be edible. When Roy explained what escargot was, unintentionally, Jade spat out the mouthful she was chewing. How was she to know that she could projectile snail over the table and onto the dish of the city's mayor who dined behind them?

Naturally then, Roy lost his temper and Jade did right alongside him and they were quickly soon asked to continue the discussion out of the restaurant. Horrifically, paparazzi were waiting outside and the camera flashes blinded Jade to where she tripped down the stairs and smashed into Roy who ran into the garbage boy. The trash tumbled from the bucket and onto the fallen couple, adding sauce stains and splatters to their ensemble. They escaped into his vehicle, when he had the nerve to ask her to try not to get anything soiled on the interior.

She had some language stored up to retch upon her awful date, but felt her silence could, for the moment, be more effective that sheer shouting and new vocabulary words.

* * *

"Yo! Whose turn to clean the tub and toilet?" asked Gar as he tried to stand as far away from the stained appliances as possible later that evening.

"Vic's," Richard answered in a passive tone.

Gar yelped and backed away, but watched as his suitemate silently scrubbed the toilet. He added this to the list of why he hated his roommate moving out suddenly this week. Watching Richard have no one go to the gym with or play in that one video game they both like (Gar preferred his ninja games or _Super Monkey Showdown 5_) was also disheartening –and Gar was typically a cheerful guy.

The majority of Vic's stuff remained in his room; only a t-shirt and his toothbrush were missing, so it made the dorm a depressing reminder that Vic was gone. Gar escaped to the pool once more, only reminding Richard further of his mistakes. Just Sunday when Gar dove into the chlorine, he and Vic drove around for burgers and got real and fought Atlas and lost, but he became the closest thing to a brother Richard had ever had. Which is why he found himself sitting on the floor in the foyer, leaning against the wall of the bathroom so he could face the giant wall the four of them decided to share.

The wall wasn't perfect, and it kind of matched the attitude of a scrapbook, but they decided to add pictures and quotes and whatever to the wall that mattered to them. Thus far, it was still pretty bear, but football game tickets, quotes from Gar's movies, and passes for a gala Richard went to earlier in the year were taped onto the drywall. Pictures of the three of them and an assortment of them with other friends were randomly arranged on the wall as well.

His eyes focused on one image in particular. Richard slowly stood and moved closer to the picture. It was of just him and Vic. Vic being the obviously bigger one, took up a lot of the space, but had a friendly hand on Richard's head, messing up his mane, and was holding up a peace sign with his thick fingers. Richard held victory fists near his body while both had elated expressions and goofy grins. The photo was taken after they passed a pop quiz in history a couple weeks ago and both were so pumped that Karen snapped the moment and printed it for them. Vic was the one who placed it to the wall.

Richard leaned in close and slowly pulled the photo off of the wall and simply held it for a moment. He hung his head and whispered, "I'm sorry"; willing the words to reach Victor Stone, one of his best friends, somehow.

* * *

Grant collapsed onto his bed in the temporary dorm where sudden transfer students sleep before they're placed into the actual dorms. He was exhausted, not only from his first day at a real school, but from the last two hours spent with Jin and her crew.

"Report," ordered the man ever so always in his head.

"Just returned from a Hive Five meeting," Grant stated as he sat up to try to be more awake to converse with the employer.

"And?" impatiently, the man demanded.

"I'm in," replied he with a small grin.

"Excellent, apprentice," congratulated the boss in a non-sarcastic way. "Give me the details."

Grant retold how Jin explained to him that they six all have damages and are improving with the Hive Five program.

"Good, they trust you, yet aren't aware of your association with their Hive program. What is your status with the other group at Titans?"

"I've only just met them and had lunch with some this past week, but expect progress, Sir."

"Good. And Grant?"

The boss using his actual name threw him off his kilter; so much so, he physically stood up to reply timidly, "Sir?"

"Don't get attached to them."

* * *

Author's Note: Woo, you finished the chapter! And hey, I'm not a guy nor have ever been in a fight, so I apologize if the situation and reasons involved in that situation are a bit stretched from reality, but hey, it's fiction and that's the perk of being an author, I suppose! :) Please, please **review** if you have time to let me know what you liked, what you didn't, questions, predictions, or if you just need to talk, hehe! Thanks in advance and God bless! See you for round TEN of chappies in "Fight Anyway"!

_Noticeable quotes/situations from the episodes "Spellbound" and "Divide and Conquer". _

**Who you met in Chapter 9 - "Sonic Boom":**

Kori Anders - Starfire

Rachel Roth - Raven

Malchior - Malchior

Richard Grayson - Robin

Victor Stone - Cyborg

Atlas Champion Keith - Atlas

Spike - Spike

Sara Sims - Sarasim

Gar Logan - Beast Boy

Principal Farr - ElastaGirl

Master Sebastian Blood - Brother Blood

Jin Hex - Jinx

Roy Harper - Speedy

Jade Nguyen - Cheshire

Antonia "Toni" Monetti - Argent

Tyson "Hot Shot" Joto - Hot Spot

Wally West - Kid Flash

Trenten Brooks - Aqualad

Karen Beecher - Bumblebee

Baran Flinders - Mammoth

Seymour Isaac - See-More

Tommy Gizmo - Gizmo

Kyndyl "Kyd" Wykkyd - Kyd Wykkyd

Billy Numerous - Billy Numerous


	11. Chapter 10 - Deception

**Author's Note:** HI. You guys are way too lovely and patient, because it has literally been over half a YEAR since my last update. SO SORRY. It's been a crazy busy semester and summer, but good! During my departure, I did discover the show Young Justice and binge watched it and loved it! I'm curious to know your thoughts on it, too! And, I do want to try to incorporate some characters or characteristics of individuals from YJ to this FF, but it is first and foremost Teen Titans, so that may reign. Nothing canon on either spectrum is guaranteed, just a warning. :)

_LibbieLies:_ Thank you so much for your faithfulness in reading AND reviewing! You're great.

_AngelaLove072101: _Hey, thank you for your THREE reviews! Wow! You're awesome and very appreciated.

_Mark Isaacs:_ I confess that your review literally made me laugh out loud when I first read it. Thanks for dropping the line and this story SHALL be finished, but not for a while -I have big plans for it and we're only at the tip of the iceberg. :)

I hope that this super long chapter makes up for my absence. PLEASE leave a review if you can!. Happy reading!

* * *

"Well, that was a bit dramatic," Jin provided her unwanted opinion from Vic's chair at his desk, feet draped over on of the arms and her back reclining against the other. She was facing Vic's direction, but didn't look at him as filing her nails to a perfect point were much more enticing.

Vic simply let the door slam shut for an immediate response to the girl who somehow appeared out of thin air. He was in no mood to mess with sass from this girl, having just stomped out of gym class, declaring he was transferring.

"Feel better about yourself now that you'll actually get noticed?"

"Jin, what are you doing here?"

"Sitting, duh," was her snarky reply as her feet slid to the ground and began to rotate the chair like an amusement ride.

Not amused, Vic marched over to the furniture piece and clamped down on the high back, ceasing her victory tour. "What are you doing here in my room?" he demanded in an irritated tone.

"Sheesh, ease up, big boy," taunted she with a classic eye roll.

"I need to get out of here," Vic changed the subject as he turned his head and scanned his dorm room. Unsure of what he was going to do, he grabbed a t-shirt off the pile of semi-clean clothes to change into from his sweaty gym shirt.

"Don't forget your toothbrush," quipped Jin as she continued her revolution lazily. In response, he snatched his toothbrush, swiped his keys, and stormed out of his dorm. Jin leaned back and grinned before bursting off the chair and trotting after Vic.

He stormed down the halls and as his fate would have it, Altas was tromping in the vicinity.

"Well, if it isn't little hotheaded Stone who thinks he can take my girl," Atlas baited, crossing his thick arms over his barrel of a chest.

"Atlas, you're not worth my time and neither is Sara. You both think you're better than you are and you have to desperately try to prove that by putting others down. Not cool, man. Now get out of my way, scholarship kid." The words were out before he could even register what was flying out of his mouth. He didn't show his surprise at his brashness, or at the small audience gathered to witness Vic's public dissing of Atlas, Vic just continued his march with a smirking Jin following.

They didn't speak again until Vic was unlocking his Cy-car and threw himself into the driver's seat. "Mind if I join?"

"Whatever," he muttered in response to her. Jin grinned and easily slipped into the passenger's side. Vic threw the car into reverse, backed out of his space, and slammed on the gas to drive out of the parking garage and away from Titans Academy, but more specifically, his problems.

"So burning your bridges here at Titans was your exit plan?" Jin smirked as she slouched in her leather seat of the Cy-car.

"I don't burn bridges, Hex," snipped Vic in defense.

"From how you've treated Karen Beecher, Richard Grayson, and Atlas Keith just now, and how you totally abandoned your roommate -the odd little guy, right?- kind of points you in the direction of burning bridges, Stone," sneered Jin, straightening her posture and sharpening her tone to rival Vic's dark mood.

Vic was pouting, but for once no words flowed from him. He zoomed down the streets of Jump City, boldly taking turns and only braking when absolutely necessary. Jin never reacted to his brash driving display; she simply sat in the seat and observed silently through narrow eyes as if it all was beneath her.

"You're awfully good at this dramatic thing," commented Jin eventually.

"Look," cut in Vic, "I have a migraine, my friends are irritating me, Karen Beecher hates my guts, and the quips from you and your cohorts aren't helping my situation either. So I'd appreciate it if you'd pipe down and just let me drive!"

Jin smirked. "Feisty. The H.I.V.E. likes that. Take the next left and we'll enroll you."

* * *

"Apprentice," ordered his employer through the earpiece. "Status report."

"Stone in the honey. Robin soon to be out of the nest. Another chess match with pawns this evening," Grant replied after scoping out his surroundings to safely reply to his employer/master. The hall was empty, as it should be this late in the evening, but it was always good to be aware of prying eyes or eager ears.

"Yes, I _know_ that Victor Stone will now be attending the H.I.V.E. Academy, and that Richard Grayson is distracted with that foreign girl. And I'm well aware of the status of those involved with the Hive Five. Give me more details on the other group at Titans."

"Is there a way we can distinguish them from all the other groups I'm having to spy on? It can get confusing." Grant rubbed his forehead and squatted as he slid down the wall.

"Fine," spat the master. "We'll entitle the ones you're to be focusing on just the Titans, the subjects will remain with the name Hive Five, and all other students are irrelevant and disposable."

"Well," Grant slowly continued, rubbing his hand over face tiredly as his posture slouched, "the _Titans_ are a bit out of sorts from how their general routine we've observed for the past month. Since the stone is in the honey, the robin is vastly west, the alien girl is quiet, the odd boy is not as goofy, and the quiet girl is busy working."

"Working?" perked up the master. "Where is she employed?"

"Something about a tomb and some tea?" guessed Grant.

"Find out," commanded he. "And find more weaknesses in the Titans."

"It's only been a couple days, sir," defended Grant. "I enrolled Monday and it's only Wednesday."

"Two days in plenty of time to get close to someone and exploit them."

"Not really," Grant dared to argue.

"It was for you. It took me only a matter of hours to employ you, apprentice," reminded the master. Grant sunk lower to the ground from his position and leaned his head against the wall, processing all of his decisions from his time employed with this man.

"That was different," Grant quietly remarked. "I had nowhere else to go; plus, you saved my life."

"Then make the Titans have nowhere else to go but you," hissed the employer.

"It's hard to put people in life-or-death situations and have them respect you, master," stated Grant, running a hand through his hair, disheveling the mane to match the matter of mind he was in currently.

"You owe your existence to me, apprentice," snapped the man on the headset. "Show me that respect and honor by creating circumstances for the Titans that will make them eternally grateful and indebted to you. The clock is ticking on both my patience and what I can finish on the day I employed you."

A sudden zap of static and then a quiet whirling as the connection cut off filled Grant's ears. He sighed and hung his head between his knees. Grant reflected on his past, and processed what his future will entail –and what precisely he will have to dig up and expose of the Titans. Full of empathy, he outwardly muttered, "I'm sorry." Not sure if it was directed to himself or to the Titans or who precisely.

"Me too," was a murmur in response. Grant whipped his head up to examine his audience. His master could not have placed a better chessboard match himself, for none other than Richard Grayson stood ten feet from Grant.

"P-pardon?" managed Grant in both surprise and confusion.

"I'm sorry too," shrugged Richard.

"Sorry about what?" Grant wasn't sure if Richard was regretting over some mysterious situation between the two of them, or something entirely different that was beyond Grant's involvement.

"About being a lousy friend to my suitemate," Richard admitted. He scoffed the tiled floor with his shoe, looking down at the ground as if it was the most intriguing item in the hall. "A few moments ago I was actually outwardly apologizing to the air just like you were," noted he.

"That's, uh, great," Grant moved his head in a circular motion to help signify his listening. Then Grant's geared shifted into his apprentice mode as if his employer were turning the cogs himself. He slyly suggested, "Need an ear to vent?"

"I'm not much of an confessor," ironically, Richard confessed.

"I'm not good at keeping secrets," Grant truthfully admitted, but to Richard's knowledge, it seemed a jest. Both boys smiled and offered hollowed chuffs at the potential joke. Grant swallowed the lump in his throat that swelled at the thought of Operation Enrollment.

"All my life is secrets," Richard said after a few beats of silence. He tucked his hands into the pockets of his jeans, still dressed formally from the day. Bruce always stressed the importance of appearance, thus, no one has really seen Richard in casual attire unless he's at the gym, but he's donning name brand athletic gear then, doesn't count. "Not too much of a person to get to know, though. How about you, Grant?"

"Same here," Grant replied quickly. "I just work a lot and go to school. Trying to get to know people and make… friends."

"Sounds like we're in the same boat," smirked Richard. Grant nodded, hating how his brain was making personal connections with Richard Grayson. "I have to go finish some stuff, but I'll catch you around."

"Why are you out so late anyway?"

"Wanted to grab some water and get some air –dorm's stuffy." Richard didn't add verbally that it was an insufferable space since all it did was remind him of Vic and how he drove him away.

"I'll let you get to it, then, Grayson," Grant commented with an attempt of a friendly smile; it was so strange for Grant to switch into friend mode and pretend he didn't have all this background information on his classmates. After working with his employer for a handful of years, Grant had quite the tabs on all his peers in Titans Academy. "Hey, question: mind if I snag lunch with you and your friends tomorrow?"

"Sure," Richard answered easily, but added in his mind darkly: _But I'm not sure who'll still be friends enough to eat lunch with civilly_. He bid farewell to Grant and sauntered back to his dorm. Gar was still out who-knows-where and obviously Vic hadn't come back in the ten minutes Richard was absent from the dorm. He sighed and flung himself on his phone suddenly ringing interrupted his silent, brooding time.

"Hello, sir," he greeted the caller: Bruce Wayne.

"Richard," answered Mr. Wayne. "Do you have a moment?"

"Always for you," replied Richard.

Mr. Wayne ignored the sass, he demanded, "Meet me."

"When?" Absentmindedly, Richard glanced at his Smart Watch and noticed that it was three minutes until midnight.

"Now."

_No surprise_, Richard instantly thought. The man _was_ quite precise with his schedule. He answered as he began to slip on some random athletic shoes tossed about the dorm, "Okay, give me time to get to my R-cycle."

"No bother," interrupted Mr. Wayne. He nonchalantly added, "I'm on the roof."

Richard snapped up from his shoe activity and glanced to the ceiling as if he could see through to the roof for confirmation of Mr. Wayne's statement. He muttered, "You're wh-?"

Sixty-eight seconds later, Richard finished picking the lock to the door that leads to the roof and stumbled on to the space. The Titans Academy tower was shaped like the letter _T_, therefore the roof was a large, flat expanse, but strictly off limits to all personnel. Richard's first words to his mentor were to remind him of said rule.

"Did that stop you?" asked Mr. Wayne after Richard reported that their position on the roof was contraband.

Richard smirked, "Encouraged."

Mr. Wayne allowed a small half smile to break his typical mask-of-a-face.

"So what's this meeting about?"

"Both the public and the press are eating up your interview that mentioned you dating," Bruce announced.

"The article twisted the situation to make it sound like I'm much more datable than reality," he pouted as he crossed his arms.

"Details," brushed off Bruce. "I need you to continue to feed their reports."

"Of dating?"

"Yes."

"Why?"

"It's what's best for you," sharply Bruce responded; his gaze jerking to the city skyline told the story of Bruce not holding much confidence in that statement.

"'Best for me?'" Richard scoffed the typical line from a parent. "How would you know that? You're never in my life unless it's to drag me to some benefit that only seems to benefit your image."

"Richard, just do this. I am your guardian and I know what's best," Bruce responded, eyes narrowing at his ward as he turned his face back to the boy.

"You mean you know what's _profitable_," snapped Richard, eyes mirroring Bruce's, as they became accusatory slits.

Bruce frowned. "I don't owe you an explanation, Richard, but I'll provide you one."

"No," he declared in rebellion. "You _do_ owe me explanations, Bruce. You zip me around the world and never think to explain what companies you're dealing with or what people you shake hands with. You just expect me to be there and to do as I'm told. And I have. But I'm sick of it. I know you want me to comply and to respect you, but how can I respect a suit?"

Bruce pulled his head back and eyed Richard up and down thoughtfully. "Backbone," he noted with the slightest of nods, "good."

"Y-you're not mad I dissed you?" Richard's defiant crossed arms slipped from his firm grip, dangling his arms about his side. He didn't know how to reply. Bruce was supporting Richard defying him?

"Dissed me? Richard, please, you'll have to do _and_ say much more than what you just did if you wanted me to take insult. I'm the face and wallet of billions of dollars; I can handle teenager sass."

Bruce Wayne cleared his throat as if dismissing the subject. "I know I am not the perfect parent or guardian or whatever," stated Bruce, "but I do know how to make business deals. How about we strike one?"

"Name your terms," Richard encouraged him with the nod of his head, but re-crossed his arms to hold his ground simultaneously.

"First," Bruce held up his hand as if to signal a stop to the deal momentarily, "why I'm here: I need more stories of your life for the press to chew on. I don't care if you fabricate something or pay your friends to stage an outing, I just need your face in the papers more, so then they won't follow me. When I said I know what's best for you, I'm just trying to prevent you from knowing too much. I'm working on a case of business that is off the record from the Wayne Company, and even off record from Diana. If any opponents knew you knew anything on me or the deal, they'd swarm you."

This bit of information surprised Richard. Diana has been in Bruce's life for years, but only recently has she been a romantic portion of the man's schedule. Lately, it seems all he did was spend time with the infamous Diana Prince, so Bruce Wayne purposely keeping a project from her prying blue eyes caused Richard's ears to perk.

"What is the case?" inquired Richard.

"An alliance with some promising partners overseas, but they have so many spies and double agents, it's impossible to discuss openly."

Richard nodded and actually accepted the need for secrecy. Bruce needed him to be the decoy, but if it meant a change in their relationship, he'd do it.

"Now on to the deal," egged Richard.

"Of course," smirked Bruce. "I offer you this: I show you my ways of the business. Bring you to functions you can take part in, and shake hands with individuals who'll shape your future. You'll do more than be a pretty face like what I know you have felt like, but you will shadow what I do on the business-side of Wayne as well as pleasure. Investigating clients, digging up off-the-record information, gathering Intel, deciding on the best options- all spectrums of the business and world of living with the best, and then with this knowledge of the business world and the socialite life, you, Richard," Bruce pointed his finger at his ward and looked Richard dead in the eye. "You do not follow."

His heart skipped a beat at that announcement, and once more, Richard's arms slipped from their position across his chest.

Bruce continued, "I indoctrinated you into the socialite world at the ripe age of nine. You needed to see the world of celebrities and money and power and business."

"Why, so I could turn out like you?"

"So you wouldn't."

* * *

Malchior guided Rachel to her dorm room door gracefully and soundlessly, of which she was grateful for since it was after the academy's curfew. He had been busy during their shift and fairly quiet on the trek back to school, but that was nothing too out of the ordinary for him, Rachel has gathered thus far; he seemed to like being lost in his thoughts, just like she did.

"There's talk of Titans Academy staring up a newspaper, or a newsmagazine more like it," he offered suddenly.

"Sounds informative," Rachel commented, unsure of why Malchior was spreading this report to her.

"I've been asked to lead it," his eyes gleamed, "as head editor."

"That's great. You should go for it," encouraged Rachel with a small smile and nod.

"I want to," he began wistfully, "but I can't do it alone. I need an assistant editor."

"I could ask some friends who might be interested," Rachel remarked, going over an invisible list in her head of possible candidates. Her roommate, Kori, was creative and great with people, but English wasn't her strong suit. Jade could easily interview people for stories, but possibly much more rougher than the newsmagazine reputation desired. Jin could be quite the poet if she wanted to, but was an awful team player. Karen would get the work done swiftly and fairly sweetly, but she's much too swamped with her obligations to academics, cheer, student government, and other organizations. Plus, Rachel wasn't too big of a fan of any of these girls co-running the paper with Malchior, who then answered her dilemma in his next soothing sentence.

"I'm only interested in you," he answered solidly. "I-in you being my assistant editor, I mean," he clarified.

Rachel, aghast, starred at him to interpret his seriousness. When she saw that he was firm in his response, she swallowed the lump of anxiety in her throat. Twiddling her fingers, she finally answered meekly, "That's a big responsibility and time consuming." She glanced to the side to avoid his melting gaze. "E-especially with working at Tea's Tome now, you know?"

"I'm being totally selfish with this, Rachel," he stated. "I honestly want you on my staff so I can shoot you my visions and ideas because I trust your opinion. You're amazing with your literature knowledge and ability to craft interesting pieces."

"Plenty of other students can throw some words onto a paper," she objected.

"Now you and I both know there's so much more to writing than 'throwing words onto paper,'" he said with a smile. Rachel shifted backwards with a step, gently rocked forward, but then thought better of it and took another step away from Malchior.

"Why me?" She asked, hoping he didn't see her moving away from him and how uncomfortable she was getting at his attention.

"You get me," he answered smoothly, "you help me not feel so..."

"Alone…" she finished for him. "Yeah, we work together and go to the same school," she brushed off nonchalantly. "Of course you'd associate me with not being alone." She would be lying is she said that she didn't feel some disappointment if her reasons for why she helps him not be alone were correct. Hopefully she was more than just a body or companion to him? Surely…

"I was going to say lonely," he chimed with a small, sad smile. "There's a difference, Chellie."

For some reason, Rachel wasn't mad when he called her by the odd nickname he bestowed upon her. Their eyes locked at his statement, Artic blue colliding with galactic indigo; bridges could have been built for how steady and intense he held her observation.

"There is," she agreed with a quick nod and shifting her bag onto her other shoulder, glancing away, breaking the bridge.

"Promise me you'll think about joining the newsmagazine staff, Rachel," Malchior asked, griping her hand beseechingly.

"There's a lot on my plate right now, Malchior," Rachel regretfully informed the fair-haired blonde gentleman whose face didn't disguise his disappointment at her response. "But," she interjected her own answer at his reaction, "I can think about it."

Malchior busted out his brightest grins she has seen on him yet, and out of sheer bliss at the possibility of her working with him; Malchior leaned over and pecked her check like the fluttering wing of a butterfly.

"Sweet dreams, Rachel."

Rachel didn't verbally respond, but she did provide a smile at the pecker. She unlocked her dorm door and entered the dimly lit foyer and allowed a content sigh to be released from her inmost being. Had Rachel not been the reigning resident of Cloud Nine, she may have noticed that her roommate was absent from the room, but she simply dropped her bag in her dorm room and then glided into the bath –sure that even the most powerful of body washes could not rinse away her smile.

* * *

"Wait, I am confused," confessed Kori in response to Richard pouring out the conversation between him and his warden to her mere seconds after Bruce disappeared from the roof. She cast an anxious glance around her to make sure there were no spies privy to their conversation. Currently, she was in her PJs, hair in braids, and ready for bed when a light rapping tapped the foyer's door. Figuring it was Rachel who might have forgotten her room key –she was still out for the day either working or something, she didn't specify when she disappeared- so Kori left her stiff, narrow dorm bed to answer the door. Much to her surprise, Richard Grayson was on the other side of the wood, not her mysterious roommate. They couldn't talk in the halls with so many dorm room doors practically screaming potential eavesdroppers, so they slipped to a nearby study nook despite the contraband hour of midnight. "If he does not desire you to turn out like him, then why does he want you to come to the functions?"

"Exposing me to them without integrating me has been his tactic thus far," commentated Richard as he paced the small space of the room.

"So he wants you to choose a life away from the spotlight, by being in it..?" American ways were bizarre.

"It sounds funny," admitted he, "but it makes sense, too. By attending all the brunches and dinners and meetings and galas, I've come to hate it. I want a life different than that. And he's offering me a way out."

"What is the 'way out', then?"

"My own choosing."

"Did you choose to accept the deal?"

He hesitated; not immediately responding to the question posed by the beauty -who only looked more adorable in her sleeping garb and occasional yawn. Briefly, he wondered how many Tamerans slipped into full-length bathrobes and slippers before conversing with an American boy near midnight. Richard didn't share with Kori all that Bruce Wayne had proposed, but only that he offered a route in leaving the social scene.

At his silence, she released a sigh and asked him, "Why did you tell me all of this?"

"What I'm doing, Kor," Richard began in a serious tone, ignoring her second question and crossing the threshold and neared the sleepy alien girl, "is building a future. I'm securing relationships."

"I-I trust you, friend Richard," she replied, unsure of his intense response but implying for her answer to encompass both of the questions she posed.

Richard in turn cracked a smirk at her answer. Had he known the road the decision of being projected into the socialite scene to cover for Bruce Wayne would entail, or at least the benefit of enlightening Kori to help evade future heated discussions, he would not have accepted the responsibility. However, his distant future was not on his mind. He was only thinking about the schemes for the spotlight, and what he'd do once free of the Wayne obligations.

* * *

Gar laid in his stiff dorm bed, flat on his back, staring at the black abyss above his head. If he squinted, he could almost make out the glow-in-the-dark stickers he pinned on the ceiling. He wasn't bothered by the darkness –many video games have been spent in black as the night hours slipped into the morn and he sluggishly crawled into his covers back at home, back at Aunt Rita's.

No, the night wasn't keeping Gar awake, but the silence was.

The quiet space seemed to be attacking his practically bionic ears. They were slightly pointed as not all humans have the exact same shaped appendages. As a child, he always pinched them at the top to make them more abnormal like a mythical creature's, but his shaggy hair has begun to cover the tops, dissuading any elf achievement thus far.

In addition to partially pointed ears, Gar has exceptionally good hearing. Like an animal's, he has been compared to. Some people may get offended at such a remark, but considering _who_ the words were derived from, Gar would happily accept it –especially because animals took such a high priority in his parents' lives.

His parents were actually to thank for his hearing; not genetics, but rather through years of younger moments that were spent much like he was doing now. Laying wide awake as the clock signaled a new twenty-four hours at midnight, him visualizing the layout of whatever building he was sleeping in to find those he was waiting for, and mentally stretching his ears to receive any hint of his bedroom door squeaking open with a motherly scan on his supposedly sleeping figure, quite crying, coughing at holding in the feeling in your throat when you need to bawl but are trying to be strong, protests at leaving without a goodbye –any audible proof that his parents would leave him unwillingly.

But time after time –squeaky floorboards, bags zipping, hushed voices, and car engines revving- revealed to elementary Gar that they always left in the dark of the night without warning on purpose. Never taking him was intentional.

It was unfair of him to compare this abandonment to what Vic did in transferring to H.I.V.E. Academy, Gar knew, but it still hurt. Why did people always have to go? He thought laughter and happiness were supposed to root individuals together. Then why, he the jokester and goofball pondered silently, does it seem to only tear his world apart?

Before he could gloomily self-answer his questions, his ears perked up as humanly possible; a noise down the hall. He could tell the owner of the noise was trying to fly under the radar. Happenstance-wise, Gar has slipped out of his bed and found people locking and unlocking doors countless times in his time spent at his parents. Reliving his childhood, he crept out of the bed and dorm with stealth and grace rivaling a panther's. He peered out the door just in time to catch a young man slipping into the dorm across the hall and down two rooms from Gar's. His heart rate slowed as he realized it was only a student trying to avoid curfew punishment since it was well past midnight by now.

Slightly disappointed, Gar tried shutting his forest green orbs once he was back in his cocoon, but immediately sat up when he pieced together that the height and fair hair of the student matched very few students here at Titans Academy. In fact, it only matched Malchior.

Knowing he shouldn't but not able to resist, he snatched his phone and checked to see when Rachel read his joke-of-the-day text. _12:28 am._

He glanced at the time. _12:32 am._

Thus timing about right for Malchior to stalk back to his dorm after saying good night to Rachel, and then for her to be checking her missed messages from the day since she always stayed up late to read or write or fiddle on her phone.

Gar twiddled his fingers and then slunk back to the foyer door. Glancing back at the closed door to Richard's room, he wasn't sure if his suitemate was asleep or not, but just to be cautious, he opened the door even more quietly than when he went to go see who was in the hall. He hesitated only a moment once out in the hall and then he bounded with a gazelle's grace to Malchior's door and pressed his nearly-bionic ear to the wood in hopes of catching something… anything… He actually wasn't sure why he was eavesdropping on Malchior –an upperclassman that he actually didn't know existed until he came into Rachel's path- yet, here Gar was, at the door, receiving silence.

He was just about to return to bed when he finally heard some life in the room.

"Ey, where's Kyd?" asked Malchior's British roommate, Thomas.

"He never came back from hanging out with Jin?" Malchior inquired. Thomas must have shaken his head in a negative.

"What did you and that raven chick do?" Thomas spoke after a few beats of silence.

"Told her about the newsmagazine," replied Malchior.

"Ey?" Thomas responded. "She in?"

"Not yet. Needs convincing."

"You mean you haven't swept her off her feet yet, Malchior?"

"She's coming around," Malchior confidently said after a moment.

"Speed it up, mate," Thomas continued. "Our window is closing."

"I know, Thomas," snapped Malchior. "I know we need her."

Silence. _Was the conversation over?_

"And no mixing in the heart with this mess either, mate," commanded Thomas, voice fading as if he was moving back in the dorm. Gar flattened on the ground to press his ear against the door's crack on the ground. The conversation was so not over.

"No problem," easily answered Malchior, a dorm door shutting, signaling the end of Gar's ability to eavesdrop.

Defeated, he sat up and slumped against the wall, careful not to hit his head on the wall to cause a sound.

"Gar?" A voice broke the silence. Gar ripped open his eyes to find the person who caught him in the hall. He breathed a sigh of relief.

"Hey, Richard," he answered. "You're not in the room?" He gestured with his thumb to the empty dorm room at the end of the hall.

"Clearly. What are you doing out here?" Richard asked his suitemate.

Gar huffed out a sigh, reflecting over the conversation he just heard and applying it to Rachel and muttered, "Being a bad friend."

"You're everyone's friend, Gar, how could you be a bad one?"

"Quantity does not mean quality," mumbled Gar, reflectively.

"Well, regardless," Richard quietly commented after a few silent beats, "you got one in me." He clapped Gar's shoulder and offered a rare Richard Grayson smile.

"Same, dude," sincerely, Gar replied, looking up at the guy who has become a really good friend this past semester despite the beginning of Gar fanboy-ing over the Wayne heir.

Richard stuck his hands in his pockets. "Let's get back to the room," he suggested with a twitch of his head.

"Yeah, dude, I'm exhausted," stated Gar, burdened with the conversation between Malchior and Thomas. "Hey," he paused after a moment's recollection, "what are _you_ doing out here?"

"Being a bad friend," Richard replied. It was too dark for Gar to take note of his face and Richard's voice tone is always serious, but he knew the wealthy lad was only trying to make him feel better.

"Haha," dry laughed Gar. "Really, though, what's up?"

"Just talking to…" Richard held his tongue. He can't be confessing to meeting Bruce Wayne on the rooftop of the school at midnight to receive a report about how he needed to act for the social media. "…Kori."

"Eyyy, rich boy, there ya go," Gar jokingly elbowed Richard who rolled his eyes after he realized what Gar took from the statement.

"We were just talking."

"Dude, whatever," Gar gently shoved Richard who took the small propulsion to slip into the dorm's foyer. Here, they parted ways: Richard to his always empty dorm and Gar to his recently roommate abandoned one. He heard Richard close the door and flop on the bed and knew the guy was soon asleep just out knowing his friend's habits.

The small mood lightening provided by Richard dimmed, leaving Malchior's words repeating over and over like a bad techno song in Gar's head. "Aw, Rae," Gar mumbled to himself, slapping his hands over his eyes to help encourage sleep. He too flopped on the bed and felt the entire world on his chest. "You're going to get your heart broke."

* * *

Victor Stone was lead through many dark alleys and various parking lots that were long overrun by weeds and cracked cement before he finally stopped at Jin's bidding.

"We're here," Jin quietly informed him.

_Here?_ Vic looked warily at his surroundings. A dilapidated four-story building; the sign declaring its purpose was long gone and the broken windows and flock of crows making it their nest didn't help Vic decipher what the building used to be or currently is either.

"Big boy," Jin's eyes gleamed like a mischievous cat's as she stood to her full height and kicked down the wood pallet before the main entrance of the building. "Welcome to the Hive." She extended her hand into the darkness as a welcoming gesture, but it only sent chills down Vic's spine.

Why he obeyed her arm's direction and ventured inside the sketchy building, he couldn't explain –most likely due to the adrenaline from the rough day, or possibly his eagerness for glory in adventure. He disregarded the feeling of wishing he had a pal with him to do this experience with.

"Victor Stone," a mechanic voice greeted him after he trekked over the threshold.

"Yo," he muttered in confusion, but added silently, _I'mma gonna die._

Lights flickered as his gray-blue eyes slowly adjusted to the dim atmosphere. It was an empty room –void even of spider webs and evidence of abandonment. There was a long extending hallway into the abyss before him. Jin glided by and trekked down the intimidating hallway; footsteps like gongs, he followed. Soon he sensed her rising and hesitantly clamored up the uneven steps, vaguely able to use the dissipating moonlight leaking from the cracked roof as dim lantern. They climbed to what Vic estimated to be the top floor in the building and then backtracked across the building to the front once more to the room he entered, only forty feet higher. This space had a busted out window where the front door would have been if this were the main floor room. A long hallway bounded to the left and a door was etched into the right wall. Jin whipped out a key and unlocked the door on the right. Creaking wide, the door revealed a cage inside. Fear seized Vic for a moment before he realized that it was only those old fashioned elevators with a moveable door like an accordion metal entrance.

"This way," Jin commanded and all but shoved him into a narrow elevator. Jin was mere inches from his broad chest. She didn't show one way or another how the closed atmosphere made her feel, but he personally wanted to throw up. But that could be due to the twisted situation he found himself in as well.

The elevator descended to his surprise. Why climb four stories to descend them? But the length of the ride, as painstakingly slow as it was, felt much longer than eclipsing four flights, but rather half a dozen. Vic had the sixth sense they were a couple stories underground when the elevator jolted to a stop, causing him to lose his balance and fall closer to Jin who scoffed and muttered something about him being a pathetic football star with no sense of center.

She threw open the door and disappeared into the darkness. Vic hesitated in the elevator, a lone red light faintly allowing him to distinguish his beefy hand in front of his face, but nothing else in the bleak dark.

"Come on, Stone," egged Jin from the darkness. He could almost visualize her taunting smirk on her pale face. Well, he was already in it this deep, might as well go all in, he reasoned as he exited the elevator and entered the dark expanse with a low lights speckled on the edges of the hallway floor.

He wasn't sure what he was expecting, but for one: the mechanical voice that greeted him when entering the building, to repeat as he made his way into the room was not one. He saw no sigh of Jin or any other living being, but the hallway he resided in seemed well kept and pristine. He decided to trek down the fifth teen or so feet and opened the door. When it did not budge, he decided to grasp at straws –especially desperate since the elevator door snapped shut and he thought he heard it zing away as his last chance of escape- he muttered his name to the door, "Victor Stone." To his pleasant surprise, the door unlocked and he entered the threshold.

Another non-expecting thing was for lights to slash the darkness like lightning, blinding him for a handful of moments. When he deemed his sensitive eyes worthy of opening, he took in his surroundings once more. The room he was in resembled a conference room with a large hexagon table in the middle of the room. The table lacked a solid center but had some kind of projector device build into the solid floor. Around the table held some familiar faces: On the two sides of the table on the left sat Kyndyl Wick, Seymour Isaac, Tommy Gizmo, Billy Numerous, and on the right side resided Baran Flinders, Jin Hex, and –much to Vic's surprise- the new kid Grant sat among them as well. An empty chair beside Grant –which, dumbfounded, Vic took and evened off the four sides- left the head and foot table empty. Then, a door Vic had yet to notice opened and entered none other than the headmaster of Herculean Intellective Victory Effectuation Academy, Sebastian Blood.

"Victor Stone," Master Blood commented in an expecting tone, "about time."

* * *

It wasn't until French class, second period, that Kori was able to jog through the cramped Titans Academy hallways, weaving past students and classmates, in effort to reach her roommate.

"Friend Rachel," she called.

The answer was a slight slowing down gait, but nothing more from the receiver of the call.

"I missed you coming in last night."

"Sorry if I woke you," Rachel commented indifferently, still in the dark that Kori was not in her bed or even in the room when Rachel entered. She was busy being enlightened to American socialite society and schemes via Richard.

"Oh, you did not disturb me," said Kori, carefully watching her wording as to not expose her disobedience to the strict curfew of the academy.

"Did you need me?" Rachel inquired after Kori was silent for a few moments.

"Oh, yes! Well, I just wondered if you wanted to talk."

"Talk?" Rachel repeated, pausing her trek to French completely.

"Correct," answered Kori with a beaming smile. "We are roommates, and to my understanding, it is American custom to befriend the person you share a dorm room with."

Before Rachel could reply, the warning bell interrupted the conversation and sent them to the respective room for the second class of the morning. No time for wrapping up the conservation was made since in every spare silence in French, Gar would probably captain in slipping jokes verbally or on scraps of notebook paper to Rachel who rolled her eyes at each and every one.

At the bell ending the torture of the class, Rachel zipped out of the classroom without so much as a glance to either Kori or Gar in regards to existence. Deflated, Kori slumped in her seat for a moment, staring at her exquisite French notes. Somehow the foreign words seemed to be the only comfort to her this morning.

"Don't worry about Rae," commentated Gar when he noticed sunshiny Kori downcast. "She takes forever to warm up to people, but once she does, you're bros."

"Forever?" Dejectedly and literally, Kori asked.

"I sure hope so," he breathed dolefully with thoughts of Rachel and Malchior bonding lately. He has yet to catch a moment to share with Rachel his suspicions of Malchior. Even if the quiet, dark girl would pause her schedule for him, Gar had no idea how he'd approach that subject with her. He sighed, ruffled his hair and turned to Kori with a more vocal response, "You've only been here in the States for a couple weeks, Kori, give her some more time."

"Wise advice."

"Richard and Vic advised me in that," admitted Gar with a grin.

"I miss Vic," Kori reported as she glanced in the general direction of the history class they all shared together in reminiscence.

"Dude," exhaled Gar, his voice dropping out of its usual pep for a moment, he ran his hand through the top of his green locks once more. "Me too."

"Will we see him again?" Hopeful, questioned Kori.

"Of that I know," replied he. Satisfied, Kori stood from her seat after a quick good-bye to Gar. "On what terms," he quietly added to himself as he watched her bound out of the room, "is the real question."

He hastily snatched his books, regretting his lack of backpack, and meandered to his third period English class; slightly uplifted with the fact that Kole would be there to goof off with.

* * *

Kori and Karen sat together at the front table in fourth period geometry later that day. Since the math class was smaller and had tables rather than desks, the students were positioned to two per table, two tables per row, three rows deep. Normally, there has to be a table of three since there were thirteen enrollees, but Billy Numerous was oddly absent; he never missed a math class, but flu season _was_ bounding soon, presumed the class.

To the table on the right of Kori and Karen were Kole and Trent; Kole was turned around and leaning over the aisle with the guise of helping Gar with the assigned homework, but she was actually placing a neat arm on the stick figure of the hangman game with Gar. Richard was beside Gar, like normal, and behind Kori, also normal, but he seemed in a different mood than normal.

Since she finished her assigned work, Kori turned around to chat with Richard, but he was on his phone. Before she could jolt him away from the technology that everybody in this country possessed, her gaze was caught by one of the students seated at the table behind him: Toni and Tyson. Tyson was shooting wadded paper balls at the wastebasket a few feet from him, but Toni happened to catch Kori's green gaze. Toni immediately looked away and pretended to be thoroughly engrossed in her arithmetic. Not expecting this reaction, Kori tried to relock their gaze to silently question the girl, but Toni simply studied steadily. Kori now felt a little uneasy with her plan to talk with Richard until the bell dismissed them.

The teacher, Mr. Mumbo, was ranting about the magic of numbers to help fill up the remaining minutes of the hour before the bell would signal for their freedom in lunch, and since she had not much else to do, Kori plopped her pointed chin in the cradle of her hand, and listened to the Mr. Mumbo's monologue.

A few minutes later, the bell rang, and Kori was lost in the shuffle of students before she could talk with Toni. Her pursuit would have been fruitless, she deemed, for she saw Richard swagger up to the wealthy New Zealand native and offer his arm with an eye roll of his blue irises and a small grin.

* * *

Kori wasn't bothered when neither showed up to the usual lunch table consisting of the previous two, herself, Rachel, Karen, Vic, Gar, Jade, Roy, Wally, Tyson, and now Grant. Kori wasn't troubled when she meandered her way to class after free period/lunch alone. She wasn't even perturbed as she sat down at the table in art class.

But when the warning bell rang out in the school, Kori felt worry clench her gut and her thoughts ran rapid with fear and imagination. Somehow someone must have figured out who she was, where she was from, and they were going to ransom Richard, or worse. Perspiration began to gather at her temples when her ears perked up at Kitten's whiny voice complaining about attention. Normally, this didn't enter Kori's radar, but Kitten mentioned a specific name that did.

"Uck!" Kitten grimaced.

"What are reading, Kitten?" Bored but kindly, Jericho entertained the obnoxious blonde with the question of faux interest.

"_Laire_," she responded as if bestowing the greatest information on earth to Jericho -and the class with how loud she was conversing- while flipping her long locks over her shoulder dramatically. "It's the nickname for my favorite magazine, _Populaire_." She lathered the latter word with a horrendous impression of a French accent.

"Another gossip column," commentated Wally, rolling his blue orbs disgustedly. "Great. I needed another way to drain brain cells." He tossed up a cheese puff and it bounced off his nose at his misjudged catch.

"_Populaire_ is so much more than gossip, Wally," Kitten spat as she clutched her online edition of the magazine on her phone.

"As much as it pains me to admit," Roy piped in, "that magazine is more than just the scoop on celebs. It has the most accurate reporting on several topics and has even branched into fashion, recipes, technology, charities, and education. If Oliver Queen had to pick a teen read to be featured in, he'd choose _Laire_ every time."

"Intriguing," rolling his eyes once more, Wally commented sarcastically. Roy snagged the cheese puff snack bag in retaliation and downed the remaining bits of the snack to Wally's chagrin and Roy's triumph. Sifu Brushogun cleared his throat expectantly at the duo and they immediately complied by tossing the trash; the teacher didn't mind talking or music happening in his art room, but snacks were strictly contraband.

"Your point, Kitten?" Jericho inquired politely after the shuffle of the trash with Roy and Wally took place and the final class bell alerted the tardy few scraping inside the classroom door.

"How can Richie-poo claim he's so busy all the time, but he makes time for _her_," she pouted. Jericho offered a condoling look, but no words since nothing could sooth the spoiled girl except the actual man of the article.

Kori, too, though, was upset by the declaration, and paled at the thought of this reputable magazine connecting her to Richard Grayson and what that connection might due to her people. Before she could imagine the civil war havoc upon Tameran, Kitten flung the phone's screen before the small group gathered –Kori included since she happened to be sitting near.

Kori further paled.

The photographs weren't Richard and Kori hanging out. They were Richard and Toni having lunch _today_.

"Aw," fake sympathetically offered Tavis Storm as he leaned over from his table to examine the photographs on Kitten's phone, "looks like little Miss Kori is old news to Rich Boy."

"She was never anything to him," snapped Kitten as she determinedly whipped her head around to stare down Tavis.

"Don't worry, darling," soothed Ciron Crystal, a tall, thin, and pale girl with platinum blonde hair and pink streaks accenting her white and pink lines on her asymmetrical dress. "Play things without pretty faces never stay long in a playboy's grasp anyway."

"I am not a plaything," Kori declared with narrowing green orbs in fury.

"She's not anything to Richie-poo," seconded Kitten resolutely.

"You can be something to me," horrendously, offered Tavis as he wormed beside Kori and began to snake his arm around her, but she wrested herself from his reach before contact occurred.

"Hey, lay off her," ordered Wally with an uncharacteristically frown on his face.

"And quit talking about both Kori and Richard the way you are," Roy piped up with a glare as well.

Before more shots could be fired, Sifu Brushogun silenced the class as he began to describe the next step in their art projects.

Due to Kitten's drama starring herself, Tavis, and Ciron, no one took the time to notice the absentees: Jin Hex, Baran Flinders, and Seymour Isaac. No one, save Wally did briefly glance at Jin's empty seat a few times before meandering to his designated seat beside Roy.

Kori glanced at both Wally and Roy gratefully. Roy nodded dutifully and Wally's smile broke out like a sun on a rainy April day and raised a thumps up in her direction. She allowed a small giggle to escape before studiously copying notes of the art vocabulary the instructor was throwing around. Her mood elevated at the knowledge of such good friends among her, but then it sunk once more as she realized the necessity for good friends in her case: defending against the enemy.

* * *

A few classrooms over, Gar wasn't fairing much better in his fifth period science class. Normally, this hour was spent goofing off Vic and Kole; being showered in admiration for joke telling by Nya; and being sent stern, sassy looks from Karen. However, the only typical thing that occurred was Nya mooning over the rejected jokes he has spent on Rachel the past few weeks. Not the same.

When class ended and Karen Beecher had failed to glance his way even once in reprimand, Gar realized with a sudden urgency that he'd lose her friendship too, like with Vic and Rachel. He hoped those relationships weren't truly lost, but he had said stupid things in each dynamic, and neither party –with their own reasons, of course- weren't communicating to the spunky, small guy.

"Hey, Karen," chimed Gar as he skidded out the science door to catch up with the girl.

"Gar," she greeted with a nod and closer hug of her books to her chest.

"Look, I know this is random, but, like, are we cool?"

"Why wouldn't we be?"

"Well, uh, my roommate is –was- a guy who you're not speaking to and he transferred."

"Gar," Karen stopped her determined walk to look Gar in his green eyes with her hazel, fierce ones. "I am not the type of person to drop a friend because of their affiliation with disreputable other people."

"So _not_ how you dropped Vic because he hung out with Sara who dates Atlas?" He cocked his head with his inquiry in a knowing way –he stumped her, even if it was for a brief moment before she regained composure and replied in a fury.

"It's one thing to be friends with someone, it's another to be friends with someone and offer hope for more," she snapped.

"Then why are you so mad at him?"

"It's not just that he was going down a road of being the reason for a relationship to break up," under her breath she added "even one as awful as Atlas and Sara, but," she shook her head and in a normal voice continued, "it's another to break someone's trust. And he did."

"Dude, no one cares that your fam isn't perfect," Gar defended. "We all have issues!"

"I admit it bothers me that you guys found out about that, but what bothers me more is _how_ you found out. Through Vic, who promised me he'd keep it between us," reported Karen with a sad expression overtaking her usual smirk or smile. "Gar," she sighed, "if there's one thing you remember about my ignoring the Great Victor Stone, it's that even the great make mistakes. Apparently I'm the only one in this school who can see his blasted flaws."

"Oh, no, dude, we all do," Gar replied. "And he gets that, I think. It's just he's so used to being the best at what he does, that when he met you, someone who pushes for more than the best, he wigs out and thinks he can't go past that 100%."

The warning bell paused their conversation; thus, providing time for Karen to reflect on Gar's insight.

"Him being frightened of going past what he thinks he's capable of does not certify him to break his word," calmly, Karen declared.

"I think him breaking his word, and the fact that he retreated to the H.I.V.E. Academy of all places, is just proof of how much he needs you, you Karen Beecher, who has never settled for only 100%," Gar hypothesized as they walked into the gym for class. He continued in a lower voice, "And the fact that you haven't told anybody about the fight Sunday night, which would easily get Vic kicked off the team for the rest of the season, shows that you might not hate him as much as you declare. I'd suggest that it means, in someway, you kinda need him, too."

Gar offered a smile, a quiet comment along the lines of not taking his words to heart since he's just silly old Gar, and then hustled to the lockers to change for gym class. Karen stood planted and dumbfounded in more ways than one. A reason for sure was how Gar found out about the fight; another was wondering when the little guy got so wise.

* * *

As soon as school ended, Malchior appeared at Rachel's final class of the day, geometry, and whisked her away to the hallway belonging to the English classrooms.

"What are we doing here?" she asked as they went against the flow of students exiting the academic portion of Titans Tower.

"Just wait and see," he eluded with a mischievous smile in his blue eyes. Rachel suppressed a grin at the excitement Malchior always brought with him in his sleek and mysterious manner. When the last straggler was out of sight, Malchior retrieved Rachel's hand and lead her to the room at the end of the hall. She always presumed it was an old study nook or a teacher workroom since it was separated from the other classrooms, but it appeared to be a computer lab space of some kind. "This," gestured Malchior as he dropped her hand and swept his over the room, "is the new Titans Academy newsroom."

"Really?" she asked with wide eyes as she scanned the room in a new vision.

"The computers all have the software required for creating layouts and templates for a newsmagazine like what the yearbook editors use," he explained. "They had this room last year, but moved to the computer lab by the library, so this is all mine." He beamed at her. When he saw her hesitate on mirroring his happiness, he swooped closer to and seized her hands. "Rachel, this is it. This is our way out of this curse of town."

"A newsmagazine?" Doubtful, she slipped her hand out of his.

"A platform for your writing." He gathered her hand in his and held them close to his heart. "A platform for us."

"Us? I don't even know who I am, Malchior," Rachel replied quietly and sadly, but kept her hands in his grip.

"Rachel, you're dark and misunderstood and lonely. As am I. How can we not be an 'us'?" He reasoned, bending slightly to peer into her downcast face directly. She remained silent, but he knew she was mulling over his words as well.

"I have to go get ready for work," she said meekly, but firmly.

Malchior sighed and released her hands. Instantly, she missed his presence so close to her and felt regret at having been the cause of the gap, but he was reaching for something with the hands that were previously holding her own so warmly.

"Rachel, I'm here for you," Malchior declared.

"As a friend?"

"As whatever you like," he charmingly answered. Then, he procured a rose, but not an ordinary rose. It was page from a book that was precisely folded and pinned and tucked in the appropriate places to resemble the delicate, but resolute rose. He protruded the paper flower to Rachel as he declared, "I promise you that I'll always be here."

Eyes wide, mouth limp, and knees beginning to tremble, she somehow found the courage to retrieve the offering of friendship and something more by placing a few twitching fingers around the paper stem. Her hand briefly brushed by his, bringing an appropriate rosy blush to her cheeks. She then hastily turned, and rose in hand, left the room to go get ready for work –too much in a daze to notice anything; especially the knowledge of a small person in the closet of the classroom.

He waited until he was sure Malchior was out of the room before he tumbled through the curtain that was the makeshift door of the closet –allowing him no room to make noise or movement or else he'd be made aware that the couple had an audience- and on to the ground. Slowly, he regained his footing and haphazardly grabbed the projector stored in this closet for his movie night in a few days time, and scurried out of the room.

* * *

Karen couldn't shake Gar's words from her brain all week.

_You might not hate him as much as you declare. I'd suggest that it means, in someway, you kinda need him, too. _

They replayed over and over and over until she was close to grabbing the closest set of ear buds and be willing to listen to Sara's cheer tryout tape. Desperation had sunk in clearly. Deep down, she knew Gar was right.

As if to cement her resolve to not hate Victor Stone should he transfer back, her phone rang with Vic's goofy grin taking up a huge portion of her cell's screen. She answered the call to both her surprise and his, judging by the way he paused his greeting when he realized it was a real Karen conversing with him and not her voicemail recording. He rushed out an excuse that he doesn't have time to explain, but he needed to talk to her in person ASAP.

"Where are you?" she asked, indulging his peculiar request.

"I'm not sure," he meekly replied.

"Vic?" This prickled the hair on Karen's skin. "You didn't go off and be an idiot, did you?"

"I'm-I'm at the H.I.V.E., but I don't know where…" his voice sheepishly trailed off in his confession.

Karen rested her head in her hand's palm and sighed. "I know where that's at," answered she without lifting her cranium.

"Oh, um, great," Vic responded hesitantly and confusedly. "Can you meet me in a half hour?"

"Sunset will be better," she wistfully replied as if she was plotting a million different lists in her head already as she stood to her feet. "Don't let anyone know I'm coming or that you contacted me. I'll see you soon."

"Hey, Bee," Vic blurted after a few beats of silence and he feared she hung up the conversation.

"What?"

"You know what day it is, right?"

"Yeah," she sighed as she glanced at the calendar on her wall above her desk where she sat in her cheer uniform. In bright neon pink were the letters _Football Game – Gotham, Away!_ on today's date, October 9th. She made a mental note to text her cheer coach later with a fib of coming down with something or whatever to get her out of cheering at the game. Karen lightly chucked her pen at the calendar as if erasing her agenda and leaned back in her chair with closing eyes and her phone pressed to her ear. "I know."

"Thanks, Bee," sincerely and solemnly Vic commented. "Be safe."

This caught Karen by surprise, but she smiled gently to herself and then naturally replied, "You too… Sparky."

* * *

Kori was currently on a cheer bus on her way to the Gotham game, so when Rachel breezed into the dorm room to change garb for work, she was alone. She did, however, possess a beautiful new paper rose Malchior gave her moments ago.

"Idiot," she mumbled to herself when she reflected on her excuse of work to avoid Malchior's earnestness. What was wrong with her? Why couldn't she trust someone? True, her family was jank, but should that stop Rachel from having any shot of happiness? Her thoughts were interrupted as she yanked down the Tea's Tome standard polo shirt, but she paused with her hand hovering over her signature black jeans. Rachel glanced at the rose, felt a new bloom in her belly begin, and then exchanged her black pants for the medium gray denim before slipping into her combat boots and strutting out the door for her shift at work.

* * *

Swapping jokes and funny stories about classmates, Gar and Kole strolled down Jump City's streets until they hit the Hub. It was Friday afternoon and his weekend was full of absolutely nothing: perfect. He was glad to have this time with Kole to help keep his mind off of Rachel and Malchior. All day Gar pursued the dark girl to converse with her about what he overheard between Malchior and Thomas, but the girl would not give him the time of day.

Pausing at an intersection, Gar glanced over and saw a familiar figure slip into a shop across the road. Gar told Kole he'd be right back, but she assured him it was time for her to get Clay from his music lesson a block away before they went back to the Tower, so they parted ways cheerily. He zipped across the street –jaywalking- once a break in traffic arose, and he slipped inside the shop, Tea's Tome. Hastily, he stalked down the side aisles, attempting to catch the person without being spotted. Finally, he spied his prize and quietly crept down the row of books one behind her; from his shorter view, he could more easily spy on her than her focus on him through the shelves of books between them.

Rachel was drifting down the row, she seemed different somehow, but Gar knew not how. She clutched a certain rose he recognized, and glided determinedly to a young man in the same aisle as her and in the same polo as her.

"Malchior," she said clearly and determinedly. This word brought the young man's head away from the restocking the shelves. Gar couldn't read his expression, but he wondered if it was guarded since Rachel was tense and hesitated slightly before continuing, "I promise too." She was rocking back and forth in her boots.

The young man dropped his books at Rachel's words. Hurriedly, he crouched to retrieve them and she bent to help as well. Gar could tell Malchior didn't meet her eyes when he inquired: "As a friend, or…?" he baited with hope in his voice.

"I'm interested in your story, Malchior," Rachel finally stated, resting her hand on his forearm clutching a book. "As more." They both stood, books forgotten on the ground, as if bonding into one being. Courage had not yet left Rachel as she continued to leave her hand on him and her other clutched the rose. Finally, she finished, "I just know that I want to be a part of it with you."

Malchior suddenly raised his hands and cupped Rachel's head and planted his mouth on hers in a sparkling kiss. They broke apart randomly, Rachel stunned with bugged out eyes and Malchior with a hunger in his.

He held her head still, but leaned his forehead against hers as he whispered, "I need you, Chellie. You are dark and misunderstood and you need me like I you."  
Barely, Rachel suggested in a mumble, eyes closed, "Let's break this curse of a town together."

Malchior replied by bending his head towards her again. Instinctively, she embraced his arms with her hands, paper rose tight in hand and brushing against his white hair as the kiss deepened.

Gar looked away and left the bookshop/cafe, never more than now regretting that in the heat of anger of calling Rachel creepy and all that that has lead to. He ran into Kole once more in the street, but this time she had additional visitors. Both Clay and Trenten had joined her. Not in the mood, Gar simply jerked his head to resemble a nod and jogged away before any of the party could comment to or about him. Trenten then began to recap his swim practice at Kole's prodding and they chatted happily, Clay trailing behind since the sidewalk didn't have enough room for three abreast.

* * *

"Yo, why did you bring Cheap Hair Gel?" Vic accused, completely forgetting his gratefulness to his spunky savior; Karen rolled her eyes as she switched her sass to her other hip.

"We don't have time to argue, Stone," snapped Karen. "We're in a sketch part of town and way too close to the H.I.V.E. for this discussion. Get in the car, you idiot."

Richard didn't say anything from the backseat of Karen's bug, but his crossed arms, slouched angle, and eyes blocked by designer sunglasses gave more than an efficient reply to Victor about how thrilled the Boy Wonder was to be here assisting Beecher. Vic crammed into the tight passenger seat and Karen locked the doors as she accelerated out of their rendezvous spot in a parking lot.

"Now," Karen stated in a firm, authoritative voice. Her hazel eyes were focused on the deserted streets of the night and her arms were locked onto the steering wheel. Faintly, an upbeat song on her chosen radio station could be heard oddly complimenting the gloomy mood in the vehicle. "How stupid are you, Victor Stone?!"

"Changed my mind," Richard piped up, "glad I came, after all."

Through the rearview mirror, Richard could tell Karen was not pleased at his commentary, so he smirked and further sank into his hunched position.

"I was mad," weakly, garrisoned Vic.

"So you up and transferred schools, that makes sense," sarcastically and unsympathetically Karen spat, a frown overtaking her ruby lips. "You've been gone for over a freakin' week, Victor Stone, with no sign of your existence. No word to your parents –who are under the impression that you're at some prestigious academic training, by the way. Nothing to hint that you actually had a brain in your head anymore, not that you've been using it much lately! Do you have any idea how worried we've been about you?!"

Maybe it was because in the week and half of Vic leaving Titans Academy and "enrolling" in the H.I.V.E., he has slept very little, or perhaps he finally understood that sometimes women just need to rant; regardless, he defended himself very little as Karen continued to rage and sped down the Jump City streets. He simply stared out the window, soaking in her words of how he needed to think through his actions and her repeatedly asking if anyone knew he left the H.I.V.E.

"So many people asked me if you really went to the dumb H.I.V.E. Academy," she continued, "and I told them no, because I thought you were just talking trash about transferring there last week. Boy, did you prove me wrong of how dumb you can be. How did you even get there?"

"Jin Hex," hesitantly, Vic replied.

This sent Karen into another berating rampage of Vic's poor choices. Finally, Karen's monologue was interrupted from the backseat, "I thought you said that Motor Oil here didn't know where he was?"

"Why did you bring Bad Taste in Music guy, again?"

"You guys!" Interjected Karen. "I know both of you are sorry for that showdown last week, but I also know both of you are too prideful to admit how sorry you are to each other's faces, so until you can apologize, just let bygones be bygones for the time being, okay?"

"Whatever," they both muttered with arms crossing and leaning back into their respective seats.

Karen pressed her fingers to her forehead in frustration as she asked, "What was your question again, Richard?" He repeated it and she shrugged and asked, "So?"

"Then," Richard shifted to lean his elbows on each of the front seats, "how did little innocent Karen Beecher know to find the scary H.I.V.E.?"

His question shocked the driver into silence for the first time since the trio entered her vehicle.

"Bee?" quietly probed Vic.

"If you spill, I kill you," reported Karen, a dead serious look in her eyes. Both Richard and Vic promise to keep quiet and Karen wrested the wheel to crank them onto a street. She continued to zoom down the parkway until a small gravel road appeared on the right and she breezed onto the rock. This led them to a lookout above Jump City and would have been romantic or at least scenic if the clouds didn't cover the moon for a swampy overtone upon the city. "First off, I'm not, as you said, innocent. Second, supposedly…" she paused, already debating if trusting them was a right decision. "I'm, uh, a double agent with the HIVE. Well, double student, I guess."

Richard raised his eyebrows at the confession and Vic muttered something under his breath, containing his initial explosion he wanted to release. Carefully eyeing her male companions, she continued, "I actually still am considered one, but the HIVE doesn't know that I'm betraying them."

"Say what?" Vic burst, unable to hold back at the revelation. "What do you mean, Bee?"

"Actually, I'm Subject A, not B, haha," sheepishly, she admitted. "But let me back track." Karen exhaled and launched into her tale. "I was sick as a kid with really bad allergies, which doesn't initially sound so bad, but I was deathly allergic to many things like dairy, grass, dust, pet hair, soy, and so many other little things. I'd try to go school and end up in the hospital because of some reaction. I used an epi-pen more than an ink pen. The bills were biting at my parents' paychecks and it was hard to live with so many obstacles. So, when one day a man approached me with a solution, I was willing to listen. Master Blood has been doing bloodwork and medicine and knew how to cure me. So I became Subject A, at no cost other than to spy on Titans Academy."

When she paused, Vic piped in, "Why Titans Academy?"

"Not sure," she honestly answered with a shrug.

"What were you suppose to be spying on exactly?" Richard questioned but ignored his skin prickling at this information.

"Just the curriculum, technology used, lab classes specifically. I think that's why I still take so many science courses. He'd want to know information on students, but nothing too specific."

"What made you decide to stop being a double student?" investigated Richard, his face void of revealing his thoughts on Karen's past.

"Master Blood insisted that TA is full of liars and bad people and needs to be disposed of, I couldn't find that. Well, of course, there are students who do bad things," she commented, eyeing Vic quickly, "but that didn't seem a good enough reason to try to shut the school down."

"Shut us down!" Vic exclaimed, drawing aback. "Why? What did TA do to the HIVE?"

Karen looked Vic dead in the eye and replied quietly, "TA enrolled you."

* * *

The weekend and week continued in a melancholy manner, for some that is. For once, Rachel was one of the more peppy of the group –if one still considered her part of their friend gaggle. Seeing her in class was rare, she would take her coursework into the newsmagazine room with Malchior and they'd do homework and kiss and talk and giggle and be gross.

Rachel would also not make the time for Gar to talk to her. He was genuinely worried about her relationship with Malchior, but every time he tried to bring it up, the speak-of-the-devil fair-haired spawn would pop up and sweep her away to wherever they were hanging out that day. He tried not to let her ignoring him get to him; one useful thing to come of this, however, was for him to apply the ignoring techniques to his room. With Vic gone, the space seemed to increase and depress all at once. Gar avoided the area and spent most of his time in the common living room. He saw Roy and Jade there often. Wally too would zip by every so often and they'd swap jokes or have eating contests with each other. Gar could see why Richard liked having the guy around: he was good for getting your mind off serious stuff and be able to goof off.

Richard also seemed to vanish. He and Karen plotted as best they could in class since it was the only time they could spare for each other without being suspicious for hanging out after school. They continued to scheme and dream up of ways to beat the HIVE and figure out why they wanted Victor Stone to enroll in their "school", but they kept drawing up to dead ends. Every lunch period he went off campus (his peers assumed with Toni) and after school he'd jet to go do some publicity event for the Wayne Empire and with a different girl as his date each time. He'd always swing by Kori's room and talk to her for a while after each date, though.

Kori was not sure if that is how American friendships worked or not, but if so, she did not like that system much. She kept busy, though, determined not to wait for this boy to swing by her dorm for a chat to be the highlight of her day. Kori drilled through cheer routines, especially with homecoming coming around. She also would eat and talk with Xavier Red. He talked in riddles to her, not picking up on the fact that his analogies and smooth words she takes literally not being used to American sarcasm or flirting. Xavier was kind, in his own way. He'd smirk at her during class, tell her about his crazy adventures of living on his own, and always point to his chin to mimic and inspire her to "Chin up" whenever Kitten was near. He was exceptionally good at knowing when that spitfire bothered the alien girl.

Mirroring Kori, Karen was bothered by a friendship with a boy. To avoid worrying about the situation she, Vic, and Richard have been putting themselves in involving the HIVE, she further buried herself into homecoming preparations as a part of student council and with cheer. Having Kori at cheerleading practice was a major bonus to Karen; it added another person on the unofficial anti-Kitten squad because somehow, as awful as the blonde girl was to everybody, everybody obeyed her commands. This sorcery was beyond Karen Beecher's science-strong brain.

Like elementary crushes, Kole and Trenten would blush at each other's appearance in class. It was sweet, though, to have something innocent and drama-free at TA, many classmates noted. Under the radar, however, was Clay Gnark, Kole's best friend. He treasured friendships since they were few and far between –no one wanted to befriend the freak, Kitten informed him when she declared them acquaintances- and Kole's was his favorite one, but she has been spending so much time with the swim captain, it was hard for them to be together as much as they used to.

Tyson Joto stuck around after school hours to fulfill his community service duties. He probably finished them long ago, but he liked the janitor and it gave him something to do to avoid homework or seeing the social media photos of Toni Monetti and Richard Grayson lunching everyday. He knew she just saw the Boy Wonder as a friend, and he knew Grayson would never go for the glam Toni adored, so why all the outings? Never one for figuring out puzzles, Tyson stuck to cleaning up the school and shooting hoops until Karen Beecher's cheer practice would release and they'd go over math and sometimes dinner together. It wasn't the same for either party with their previous friend to do the respective studying and dining with, but it worked.

* * *

If the past two weeks have taught anything to Richard, it was that this school year was not the normal one he was predicting for himself. He was satisfied with how it was going, though. He has made friends, kept the few ones he knew going in TA, gained some independence from Bruce, was entrusted with distracting the media for his benefactor, and now officially made up with Vic.

It was back on the night when Karen retrieved Vic from the H.I.V.E. They had spent a long time planning to investigate the HIVE and what all that was about. She had a phone call from an angry coach, so the boys gave her some space since it was her car after all. They stood on the look out with city noises lost to the tranquility of the woods. Although autumn was coming along in Jump, the music of insects, winds shaking leaves, and woodland creatures scurrying in the background filled the crisp air between the two suitemates.

Richard shuffled his feet and was scuffing his toe into the gravel as he stammered, "Look, uh, sorry about the, uh…"

"Yeah," interrupted Vic knowingly.

"So… are we cool?"

"Frosty." They lightly fist pounded at Vic's response.

"Great," Richard commented. "You got to move back to the dorm, man. Gar is like a lonely puppy."

Vic chuckled at the comparison, but didn't deny his former roommate's likeness.

"Stone, Grayson," Karen's voice bounded out of the bug. "I have an idea."

"What is it?" Vic asked as he stepped inside the vehicle after letting the smaller and more nimble Richard scamper and cramp into the backseat once more.

"You're staying at the H.I.V.E.," she commanded.

"Say what?" Victor objected as Karen began drive in the direction from whence they came to cement her seriousness at the idea; Richard simply smirked from the backseat at the scheme Karen was plotting.

* * *

**Author's Note:** I HAD to end it, so I decided there even if that wasn't the best place. A LOT of ground was covered in this chapter; hopefully not too jerky of scene changes with the time. Next chapter will be up soon! Thank you for reading! Please drop a review! God bless! :D

_Noticeable quotes and situations from episodes "Spellbound, "Divide and Conquer" and "Deception" and Young Justice's "Agendas (Episode 22)". _

Who you met in this episode:

Richard Grayson - Robin

Kori Anders - Starfire

Gar Logan - Beast Boy

Rachel Roth - Raven

Victor Stone - Cyborg

Karen Beecher -Bumble Bee

Bruce Wayne - Batman

Master Sebastian Blood - Brother Blood

Jin Hex - Jinx

Atlas Champion Keith - Atlas

Wally West - Kid Flash (TT version)

Roy Harper - Speedy

Kitten Moth - Kitten Moth

Kole Crystal - Kole

Ciron Crystal - Cironielian Chrysalis Eater

Clay Gnark - Gnarkk

Trenten Brooks - Aqualad

Sara Sims - Sarasim

Tavis Storm - Lightning twin brother

Tommy Gizmo - Gizmo

Baran Flinders - Mammoth

Kyd Wick - Kyd Wyckyd

Billy Numerous - Billy Numerous

Seymour Isaac - See-more

Tyson Joto - Hot Spot

Toni Monetti - Argent


	12. Chapter 11 - Fall Breaking

**Author's Note:** Hello, lovelies! Hey, it wasn't a six-month-long update this time! Just a month! And out one day before my birthday, woo! :D So, obviously, a grand birthday gift would be you reading and reviewing, hehe!

THANK YOU to all you reviewers –you are gems.

_TheUltimateStar:_ Wow! Your review was so insightful and I loved your thoughts; I literally agree with all you said! I think a lot of what you don't want to happen, may have to happen, oh no! But thankfully, these guys have great support systems for healing (should tragedy ever, I don't know, befall and impact our beloved pent group [HUGE HINT FOR AN UPCOMING CHAP]). Thanks for the great reminder on not stressing –you're the champ. And thank you for your review!

_Blondie1998, krystalcat, sooynd, jules_: Deal, guys! Thanks for dropping a line. I really appreciate your feedback!

* * *

As much as his actions proved otherwise, Richard wasn't a fan of having to act normal for the cameras. He wanted to investigate the sketchiness of what his friends were diving into –not worry about poses for the paparazzi. His mind has been spinning with Karen's confession of spying on Titans Academy to help shut it down just because Victor Stone enrolled there. He was also shocked to learn that there truly wasn't a H.I.V.E. Academy. There was in name but not for education. Master Sebastian Blood has been recruiting student-aged individuals with deficiencies to experiment upon and somehow with his well-sharpened mind and wall of lawyers and money supplied by a partner no one but Blood knew of, he's able to get away with his medicine discoveries.

"Blood is basically the face of the school, but he's not the bones of the structure," hypothesized Richard to Karen. Currently, they were perched on the hood of her bug, parked in the look out location, waiting for Vic to arrive. After her spilling of her tale, they forced Vic to be their own double student and go back to the H.I.V.E. to further gain Intel. Richard continued, "I bet that even if we took out Blood, what the H.I.V.E. represents would still stand."

"I don' t know," butted in Vic as he approached, "Master Blood has some powerful alliances and an iron fist over everyone enrolled there."

"He's definitely more than just a puppet," Karen concluded.

"Or at least that's what this mysterious benefactor wants him to believe," disagreed Richard as he mused with his eyes squinting under his sunglasses. "Vic, how's it going on your end? Any encryptions unearthed?"

"There's a theory of mayhem test tomorrow," reluctantly, Vic admitted to the success of the HIVE program as he rubbed his tired eyes. The sun was just now peaking behind the mountains in a morning greeting.

"Please tell me you're joking," groaned Richard. Not the news he was hoping for.

"Any good news?" asked Karen, hopeful.

"Well, I've learned a lot of their combat techniques, weapons, armor, and we had a dance-"

"A dance?!" Richard interrupted. "Vic, you're there to find out what the HIVE is planning, not learn to tango."

"I know," brushed off Vic in an irritated, high pitch. "I just need a little more time."

"Who did you go with?" Karen asked, ignoring the purpose of this check in with Vic.

"It doesn't matter," Vic shrugged away in a voice higher than a moment ago. Karen narrowed her eyes, but didn't comment.

"Maybe it's time we went on the offensive," out loud, Richard schemed.

"Negative," Vic replied.

"Not everything can be solved through a fight after all," remarked Karen, eyeing the two boys who tend to choose aggression.

Vic rolled his eyes but added, "I think Jin is suspicious of my loyalty."

"Run through who is a dual enrollment at the HIVE and Titans Academy, maybe we can figure out something from that," commanded Richard as he began to pace in front of them. Vic replaced Richard at leaning on the car's hood near Karen.

"Well, there's me and I was with the HIVE for allergy cure," Karen began.

"Jin Hex," continued Vic, "I'm not sure why, but she _is_ the glorified Subject 1."

"She's nothing special," scoffed Karen quietly to herself before adding more audibly, "There's Billy Numerous and Tommy Gizmo who are being experimented in knowledge and the brain."

"And Baran Flinders was to fix a muscle deficiency, right?" Richard inquired.

"Right," agreed Vic, "and Seymour Issac's was to fix a blindness of a degree."

"So what about Kyd?"

"Kyndyl Wyck?" clarified Karen. "He hasn't responded to treatment yet to my knowledge."

"He doesn't say much, was that part of his deficiency?" observed the Boy Wonder.

"No, the dude just keeps to himself and we all let him be," Vic commented. "And what about me? No deficiencies, but yet I'm enrolled."

"That is what puzzles me," Karen stated. "Oh, and there's also that Grant."

"The new kid at TA?" Richard asked. "He seemed nice, but why did he go to the dark side?"

"I wouldn't word it like that," Vic slowly began, eyes focused in the distance as he tried to process and file his recent information. "I think the dude's just…"

"Lost," finished Karen. She added quieter, "I know she feeling."

"It's funny, I thought I caught Grant talking to someone at night some time last week, but he was all by himself when I met him in person," Richard reported.

"Could've been on the phone," Karen suggested, not valuing the information.

"Probably," agreed he. "All I heard was something about respect and a 'master' and then he said he's sorry. I'm not sure when the phone conversation ended, though.

"Where did the guy transfer from, again?" Vic suddenly asked.

"I think he was homeschooled," recollected Richard. "When I met him a few weeks ago, he said he 'just worked a lot and went to school.' So maybe he was able to do both through homeschooling," he suggested with a shrug, hands kept locked in his leather jacket's pockets.

"So what is a homeschooled guy, who works a lot, and talks on the phone late at night to a supposed master about respect all have to do with the H.I.V.E.?" pieced together Karen tapping her mouth with her pointer.

"Also, he helped Sid win that dodge ball match somehow without actually playing in it," Richard threw in as he pushed off from reclining on the car. "I heard him bragging about it in art the next day. Well, I heard that he did that, I, uh, wasn't actually in class."

"Boy Wonder a skipper now?" Vic joked with crossed arms and an observing eye on the wandering Richard.

"He was off smoozing with Toni Monetti at some country club for a steak dinner," answered Karen with pursued lips and eyes daring the accused to deny her declaration.

"Lunch," Richard corrected with narrowing eyes, "And I _had_ to." Vic raised his eyebrows in question at his former suitemate's answer.

"Sure," Karen rolled her eyes and zeroed back in on their priority.

"So maybe the dude Grant is just a little weird and is tryin' to fit in, what's the big deal?" Inquired Vic as he reeled the conversation back to a fixed point. "Maybe he has asthma and can't do gym, and that's why he has stayed home. Whatever it is, the man has his right to keep information to himself."

"Something is a bit off about him, though," concluded Karen, "As much as I don't want to agree with Wonder Boy here." She jabbed her thumb behind her to indicate the pacing guy who shifted to the side of the car for his laps.

He ambled for a few more moments, and then paused as he posed the question: "How did half a dozen students from another school go under the radar and be enrolled in TA with the purpose of shutting it down?" wondered Richard.

Silence enveloped the trio and Richard took this opportunity to cease his pacing and return to reclining on the hood of Karen's bug. The stillness allowed the low hums of the city awakening below them to faintly reach their chilled ears. Karen kept her lips pursed as she mulled over the question and Vic was intently studying some ants braving the gravel by his clunky boots.

"Well," Karen finally responded after the three schemers processed Richard's predicament he presented, "Titans did open enrollment for both boys and girls the entire year this past semester, so there has been an influx in people wanting to attend," she noted.

"So they may have just slipped in under the radar with all the hubbub of the new year," hypothesized Vic with a shrug.

"Personally," added Karen, "I wanted to come to TA long before girls were allowed just for the academic aspect, and then when Sebastian Blood told me I'd be going there if I permitted treatment, I was sold."

"The timing of all of this is too convenient," Richard mused aloud as he rubbed his hand over his face. With his wrist near his eyes, he glanced at his Smart Watch and noticed the time. Groaning, he sat up. "Got to go. Lunch date… with the, uh, mayor's niece. Bye."

Vic and Karen didn't say anything as he grabbed his phone and hustled to his R-cycle. They didn't voice the fact that it was six thirty in the morning; early dew still covering the ground as proof to the time. Neither stated that the unmarried mayor was an only child, so no niece relations are probable. But they knew to let Richard live his double life; they weren't in any place to judge or comment both being double agent-students.

"So," mumbled Vic awkwardly shuffling his large feet into the rocky ground as they watched Richard zip away.

"Oh! I brought you the jacket you wanted," Karen reacted jerkily, as if having a one-on-one conversation with Vic was something to be avoided.

"Great," he hollowly cheered, eyes fixated on the horizon holding the sea, mist, and sky. "I guess I should be gettin' back then…" stammered Vic after he held the bulky jacket Karen protruded from her vehicle to him.

"Actually," Karen remarked abruptly, attempting to be casual as she sank back onto the car beside the man taking up the majority of the hood. "Richard and I were talking earlier before you got here, and we think you should come back."

"Back? To Titans Academy?" Vic asked, confused. "What about the past two weeks of me bein' at the H.I.V.E.? That's just dust in the wind, then?"

"No, get Blood to put you on an assignment as undercover back at TA, like he did with me and the Hive Five," suggested Karen as she pushed herself off the hood of the car and stood firmly on the ground, uncomfortable sitting on the cool hood.

"Why would he trust such a newbie as me? I haven't even been there a full two weeks." He, too, shadowed Karen's actions and moved off the hood.

"When I enrolled in the H.I.V.E. it was New Year's Eve. I was in on the first semester of girls being infiltrated into TA in half a week," reported Karen, possibly in a bragging tone, and pivoted to strut to her car door. She clutched the handle and hesitated. Finally, she declared, "Prove yourself loyal to the H.I.V.E. and be ready for the assignment, Stone."

"Yes, ma'am," he replied with a mock soldier-inspired salute. He returned his hand to gripping his jacket.

"You don't have to do this, Stone," she suddenly commented in a commanding tone, both hands gripping the edge of the car's roof and the driver's door. Vic froze temporarily, and it wasn't because of the chilly morning. Karen took a step towards the front of the vehicle, but paused. She was looking at the hood of her bug when she spoke again, quietly this time, "You don't have to get involved in any of this."

"I've seen what the H.I.V.E. can do," Vic stated, still looking off to the distance, but then switching his gaze to the girl a few feet from him. "I've seen what Titans Academy can do. I know my side and I gotta fight for it, Bee." Calmly and quietly, he finally took a step towards her.

"Listen," Karen continued in her authoritative voice, she shifted to the front of the car's hood and her gaze locked him in like a spell. "Regardless of what the H.I.V.E. is doing and whomever Titans Academy has enrolled, _you_ have to consider your future as _you_, Victor Stone," she reasoned, hands tight by her side. Vic thought her fist was shaking, but that could be due to the autumn air, he reasoned.

"I am," he stated, lost at the direction of this conversation, but regaining her gaze as his eyes shifted from her hands to her hazel orbs.

"No, Stone," insisted Karen. "A normal future. You have a legitimate career in football at the collegiate level. College football players don't join cult organizations that help cure disabilities and then spy on their previous schools."

Karen was tense; Vic could have sensed this even if his eyes failed him at her stiff posture and solid stare-down. He felt a temptation to crack a joke to loosen her like how he'd tease her to get her to zone out from "Type A" mode and into a more casual one. Inwardly, he smiled at this opportunity and chose to seize it.

"Aw, Bee," Vic cooed with a smirk as he swiveled on his heel away from her, "Who says they don't?" He mentioned this with a wink and whipped on his heavy jacket as he braced himself for the chilly wind interrupting the quiet morning.

She watched the brute make his way across the gravel lot of the look out point, and then disappear behind the pines that lead to a hiking trail; lost was she on the notion of why he didn't request a ride back to the H.I.V.E.

Karen shook her head –wiping the grin off her face, and worry from her mind- and zipped home. It was fall break today and tomorrow, and she intended on catching up on some sleep. Clamoring back into her vehicle, she smiled secretly, and then mentally mapped the rest of her fall break schedule full of a quick stop at TA to snag her forgotten pillow and some breakfast, and then a ton of catching up on sleep, student council preparations, and her favorite TV show. And maybe, just maybe, she concluded to herself, her fall break might include some time chiseled away for a certain fellow who she wanted to give a second chance to.

* * *

"Friend Rachel," called Kori as Rachel was opening the foyer dorm door to enter the hallway.

"I'm in a bit of a hurry, Kori," cut off Rachel.

"Oh, it is just that…" Kori's confidence faltered at Rachel's rejection before the offer was even on the table. Rachel half-stepped back into the foyer to indicate she'd listen to the girl's statement. Joyful and inflated with hope, Kori continued, "It is the Breaking of the Fall, and I know you did not return to your home, and I have not either, so I was wondering…" Rachel raised her eyebrows at Kori's nervousness; the alien girl was twiddling her pointer fingers back and forth with every other word. "I-If we could do the hanging out since we have no school today or tomorrow, and many of our friends have left to go do other activities," Kori suggested.

"Sorry, Kori, I already have plans for Fall Break," admitted Rachel, feeling slightly bad for dropping the bummer news to her overly cheery roommate.

"Might I… might I join?" encouraged Kori sheepishly, desperate to go do something away from the dorms and campus.

"Oh," quietly, Rachel stammered, "Um, my plans are with-"

Suddenly Rachel's ringing phone interrupted her sentence. Her face lit up at the caller.

"It's Malchior," she explained as she accepted the call and meandered into the foyer. The smile on Rachel's face mirrored the brightness of her phone at the call.

Actually, everything about Rachel was lighter, observed Kori. She was wearing a royal blue blouse with black lace overlay, blue denim jeans tucked into black combat boots that had white roses printed on the shiny surface. Red was even mixed into the ensemble with Rachel's signature gold chained necklace that had an dark ruby circle in the middle and gold looped belt with a matching gem on every other hollow circle around the denim waist. When did this fashion change happen? This was much different than the stereotypical black monochromatic attire Rachel dons.

"I'll be late tonight, don't wait up," parted Rachel with a fluttery wave of her hand by her side as she slid out the door.

Kori sighed and reentered her room, unsure of what to do. The room was cramped, but spotless. Rachel's side because she hardly lives there lately, and Kori because all she did all weekend was clean and catch up on and even get ahead on homework. Plus, there were no new episodes of any of the botany television shows Kori catches sometimes. She did not know what it was about the fungus that made her so intrigued to observe the programming, but it is what she did if she ever found herself with a television and a spare hour.

Many students left for fall break activities on Friday after class, but some students left throughout the weekend, leaving a small trickle behind. Kori included.

Victor was still gone at the H.I.V.E. –she had many questions regarding that situation and felt that Richard and Karen were connected somehow by how much they've been conversing and leaving in her car this past weekend. Karen was in and out all weekend, but now was heading home this morning. Kori knew her suitemate would never deny her coming along, but she knew Karen's family was going through a rough time at the moment and they probably did not need a bystander.

Wally and Jade joined Roy at his home a few towns over. Trenten had a swim competition in Gotham, so he has been absent since Thursday and Kole left yesterday afternoon to catch the rest of the tournament.

Gar remained on campus, but was glued to his television screen as his favorite show, _The Unsung Ninja of Earth_, released their entire new season for digital download. He, Clay Gnark, Connor Wilde, Jericho Josephs, Leo Kovar, Ryuku Nguyen, and even Jeremy Frank were all camped out in one of the study nooks that had a large space so Gar could plug in his plasma. Popcorn, root beer, sticky sweets, and tofu dogs littered the coffee table, and the remainder of the space was sated with pillows, sleeping bags, and crumpled socks of the watchers.

It was an odd combination of nerds gathering for the sake of television, but Kori also never had a bundle of buddies to waste hours with for the sake of television, so she could not rightly judge. She tried watching a few episodes with them yesterday, but she had many questions and they were all too focused on the show to hear her inquiries or take time to provide an elaborate backstory. Kori might not be the keenest on American customs, but she did take the hint that she was not entirely welcome in that viewing party.

Unfortunately, Atlas and his sidekick Spike also stayed behind to continue to run through some football drills and dampen the overall mood of the Tower. His presence has been made loud and clear with him roughhousing with his cronies in the halls, or flirting with every female that had a heartbeat, or ranting about Vic, or bragging about some award he was bestowed.

Currently, he was positioned upon a spot of grass outside of Kori's dorm window, which allowed her an adequate distance to critically observe the practice without being spotted by the outsiders. She was not alone in watching; there was a small crowd of primarily underclassmen (desperate) girls stood in the proximity as well.

"Keep up the good work, Atlas," chanted Spike as the brute busted through the drills and plopped in a chair Spike presented to his idol.

"Water boy, water," demanded Atlas as he yanked the sweat towel from Spike's fist.

"You got it, boss," cheerily responded Spike who was treated more like an assistant or servant than a friend. He dabbed the forehead of Atlas with another towel and handed him a drink with his opposite hand. "And Atlas, don't let the-" But Spike's coaching was cut off by Atlas bursting off the bench to go through the routine once more, ignoring his water boy.

Kori frowned. Regardless of country and station of different individuals, that was not how one person should interact with another, she concluded. So Atlas could tackle a guy with a ball, he was not finding the cure for cancer; Kori did not get the hype that came with this guy.

And he definitely did not deserve to have a comrade like loyal Spike, dubbed she as she swayed away from the window and sat down on the floor by her bed.

This was only the second time she has ever sat on the ground, and it was surprisingly comfortable. She yanked out a small box she smuggled from home and lifted the snug lid. Inside held little treasures she has gathered over the years. She has yet to peek inside the container since arriving in America, but today she needed an extra glimpse at Tameran to overcome this missing home feeling in her heart.

As she flipped through the collection of photographs, she paused at one particular image. It was of her father. He took up the entire frame of the shot with his burly arms, barrel chest, and unruly red mane. He wasn't smiling in either the face or eyes, but Kori knew he was not upset; he just did not express emotion much -quite opposite of Kori and quite similar to her roommate. She did not understand why some people felt the need to bottle up their sentiments. Expressing emotions makes one human, right?

Another human Kori did not understand -well, one of many- was the new boy Grant who sat at lunch with them for a few days. He went back to his old school, she was told. Sad, though, Kori thought he wanted to belong with them and he did fit in easy with them. He could talk about literally anything anyone was interested in. Grant knew what martial art moves to discuss with Richard, encourage the importance of routine vehicle maintenance with Vic, brought up to Gar the latest video game releases, provided ideas for student council to Karen, asked Rachel about her favorite tea remedies, and even was aware to grab some mustard for her, Kori. The kid was an encyclopedia on everyone's favorite things (and within only a day of knowing them, too).

Grant's absence was not the only one Kori noted throughout the past week and impending fall break. Jin, Baran, Seymour, and a handful of other students had the flu or took the school vacation super early she "heard through the grapevine" –even though she was assured by Richard that there is not an actual vine of grapes anywhere on campus. The school felt empty to her.

She was beginning to contemplate doing Gar's homework –he and Rachel had a huge French report due soon for midterm (she had wrapped up the report she was to do with Karen mid-afternoon Saturday)- in desperation to do something to occupy her time, when a knock interrupted her thinking. She turned, alarmed in wonder who would be at her door, to be pleasantly surprised.

"Hey, Kor," chimed Richard, leaning against the doorframe.

"Richard," she smiled instantly with her greeting, and moved across the room to enter the foyer with him. She held back as she questioned, "I thought you had events and dates this weekend?"

"Told Bruce I had school things and told friends I have Wayne Empire obligations," he answered as he sauntered closer, hands in his pockets and smirk on his smooth face.

"Meaning?" asked Kori with a dip of her pointed chin to provide a skeptic look directed towards the Boy Wonder.

"I have a free Monday and Tuesday exclusively for _toi_. No gimmicks, no press, no school. We're free, Kor." He spread out his arms to help emphasize his point.

Before responding to his invitation, she considered his actions the past few weeks ever since he talked to her at midnight in the study nook about Bruce wanting Richard out of the socialite lifestyle. He sure acted like he enjoyed the fancy parties and fresh faces for dates every evening.

Kori tilted her head and inquired, "Am I going to be doing the hanging out with socialite Richard or my friend Richard?"

"I'm always your friend, Kori," he answered, "But if it makes you feel better, I promise to leave socialite Richard here." He acted like he was taking off his shadow and hanging it up on an invisible coat rack. This made Kori giggle and hide her face behind her hand.

"Okay," she finally answered. Within minutes they bounded down the stairs to the garage. Richard handed her a helmet, but she did not receive it. He saw her hesitation at having to sit on a motorcycle.

"Ever been on one before?"

"I have not."

"Want to change that?"

"I-I am unsure." She backed away, eyes locked on the vehicle as if it was a venomous snake. "It is a lot of exposure." Knowing she did not like the paparazzi and seeing her point, Richard nodded. They took a taxi –another first for Kori- to the park.

"Okay, so imagine this," dramatically Richard held his arms to indicate the park as his theatre for his flashback, "I'm two years old, and my parents take me to this very playground."

"Aw, baby Richard," cooed Kori for commentary.

He made a face in response but continued: "My parents are on a business call and don't notice that I wander onto the equipment." Appropriately, he climbs the mentioned playground structure to mimic his storytelling. "I somersault down the slide accidentally, but instead of falling at the end," Richard shoved himself down the slide and once the slide ends he tucks his legs in and rotates completely to land on his feet. "Plot twist: I flip off the edge and land."

"What a talent," Kori cheered with thumbs up in encouragement.

"I was placed in gymnastic classes that afternoon," he concluded as he plopped on the bench beside her. "Thus beginning my career in the acrobatics industry. I branched into martial arts once I felt it was too girly to be a guy gymnast."

"But gymnasts are so powerful and graceful; that can be for either gender," countered Kori.

"True," he remarked as he bit into an apple. "But I didn't realize that at age nine."

"When I was the age of nine I had just finished my second course in Krav Maga. Oh! And began equestrian training," she added as if it was the obvious childhood to have.

"Krav Maga?" repeated Richard in admiration and surprise. "You have got to teach me!"

"Oh, ah, maybe," she stammered sheepishly, withering at the information she shared. "Tell me more about baby Richard."

"There's not much to tell," he said, slinking off the bench and laying out on the blanket they spread out earlier. He tucked arms behind his head. "I did gymnastics, was homeschooled mostly so I could compete and help out my family's business, and then I was privately tutored once Bruce took me in and attended galas and parties and events for business."

"There has to be more though," Kori claimed as she too followed his actions and reclined on the blanket. "I mean, everyone can summarize their childhood in a few words, but it means so much more than that."

"Yeah, I guess," he answered after a moment. "It's just hard, you know, to share that stuff."

"What is easy to share, then?"

"Just about anything post age sixteen," he jested.

"Haha," she drily responded. "That then leaves what you ate for breakfast."

"Easy. Nothing." His stomach echoed this statement by growling appropriately. "Except this dumb apple just now." He appropriately chucked the aforementioned fruit upwards and it landed somewhat near the trash can in their proximity.

Kori smiled and mentioned, "Gar made me the eggs and bacon of tofu and it tasted…"

"Disgusting."

"A little dry," admitted Kori with a giggle.

"I think the Sahara sand would taste better than Gar's recipes," Richard reported.

"I have been to the Sahara," she remarked casually, staring at the sky rather than Richard's surprised face. "It was… lonely. And at first glance: dead. But it is so full of life and power. People can survive out there if they know how. Humans are so amazing sometimes," she mused quietly with squinted eyes due to the sun's glare.

"They do a lot of damage, that's for sure," pessimistically, Richard added.

"And good," she retorted. "There had to be good for them to damage, right? So if they could do that good once before, why not again?"

"Yeah, I suppose they could," he whispered, becoming lost in his thoughts as his sunglasses began to weaken at the angle of the sun. "You know, on the first day of class, Mod made us all stand and say how we're going to change history," he scoffed. "It's kind of hard to declare when you're just a teenager and hardly have any influence."

"You do not have to have the attention of the world to influence it," Kori commentated. "You do not even have to have to do a lot to influence the world of one person."

Richard reflected upon her wise words. Finally, hesitantly but with a calming confidence, he stated, "You've influenced my world, Kori Anders. For the better."

Kori whipped her head around to focus on Richard and found his gaze upon her face. His sunglasses blocked the blue eyes she detected under them occasionally, but she felt certain that if she could spy the sapphire, they'd be honest and sincere.

"And you have to mine, Richard Grayson."

"In a good way?" he asked as if a joke but he genuinely was curious.

Kori sat up, leaning her weight upon her forearms as they reclined beside her. "We shall see," quipped she before she jumped to her feet and ran to the swings enthusiastically. Her hands gripped each of the chain links holding the seat to the bars above. She peeked from staring at the swing to flash a smile at Richard, and then demanding in a joyous tone, "Please, tell me how to operate this!"

* * *

Rachel couldn't remember the last time she was so happy. Her and Malchior spent the day casually walking around the Hub, finding quirky shops, sipping different tea brews, discussing books, and making fun of pop culture. Malchior and her had an amazing discussion on literature, which led to life, which led to him confessing deep feelings. For her. She couldn't help be smile at the conversation they had earlier:

"I've never even heard of this perspective on writing," commented Rachel as she glanced up from the book she possessed. She and Malchior were knee deep in ancient books they were reorganizing and cataloging for Tea's Tome.

"It's from the Galian Scrolls," he explained without looked up from his novel.

"You've read the Galian Scrolls?"

This did cause his head to raise: "And the Mortal Achieves, and the Sands of Ser. I've been trapped in a bookshop. Not much to do, but read," he joked with a hollow laugh.

"Why don't you quit if you don't like working at the Tea's Tome, then?" Rachel suggested, shelving another book that was simply blank onto the reject cart.

"I wish it were that simple," sighed Malchior, forgetting about the books open before him as he gazed off longingly in the distance. After a moment, he shifted and spoke. "Chellie, may I entrust some private, personal information about me to you?"

"Of course." She tucked her hair behind her ear and scooted some books aside so she could sit closer.

"Do you recall the process to America through the way of work back in the early days of history?"

"Indentured servants?" Rachel was not sure where this conversation was going.

"Yes, I knew you were a smart young woman," charmed he with a smile, earning a blush on Rachel's pale face. He continued, "I am a modern day version of that. I was born and raised in Europe, and was sent here to Jump City when I was ten to work off the debt my parents took out to bring me here. With interest, and having to pay for tuition, I've been slaving in that shop for years."

"I thought you said you felt like you've been in the town for much longer than just seven years?"

"Feelings and reality don't always coincide, yes? I've gone to school, go to work, routine ever since I was fourteen. Three and half years of the same thing in the same town? Boring. I want to travel. To have great adventures. To write. To break free of the curse of this town, but it's too strong. It keeps me here through one reason or another."

Rachel was intrigued with his backstory. "What's that?"

"Originally, money to pay back. But lately… you."

"Whoa," she raised her hands in surrender, "I don't want to be anybody's curse to exploring their dreams. Don't make me the reason you're holding back."

"No, no, you're not," he violently shook his head and leaned forward, grabbing her hand as he continued his explanation. "You're my inspiration to keep on dreaming, to break free. But I'll need your help."

Helping someone break free of their destiny sounded a lot better than what her destiny looked like when she compared her life's purpose with her father's greedy wants. Or anybody's expectations of her really. Interestingly enough, Rachel caught herself nodding and deciding, "Let me free you." Malchior's smile was like the sun breaking through on a cloudy fall day.

It was then their shift ended and he seized her hand and whipped her out the shop. She rested her back against the cool bricks and he placed his arms around her like a frame. Here, she felt safe. She nearly jolted at that revelation. She, Rachel Roth, daughter of gangsters and criminals and wickedness, destined to be a portal to more cruelty and illegalities on her next birthday when she's of age, for the first time ever, feels safe.

On impulse with this feeling, She stood on her tiptoes and pecked his lips and then hurriedly whispered, "I might not know how to break that curse, but at least I can get you out of this bookshop."

"My Rachel, love, you are my savior," he declared. "But we don't just have to dream about leaving Jump, we can do it. Through this." He protruded a wrinkled paper from his back pocket.

"A writing competition?"

"_The_ writing competition," he clarified. Then he began to quote the promotional flyer: "'The Spellbound Writing League wishes to expand their writing company through a competition. Rules and regulations are online. Winners of the writing competition will win an all expense paid fortnight in Europe to have Round Table discussions and forums with the Leagues founding members. Professional editors and publishers will be present as well,'" Malchior was breathless by the time he finished.

"I don't understand," Rachel confessed.

"You, Chellie, you can win this! You meet all the requirements, your writing is a hundred times better than the rubbish they produce," declared Malchior with a smile.

"How does this help you?"

"I can't write the way you do, Rachel," he confessed. "Yes, I know grammar, and what goes well, but I can't orchestrate it the way you weave words together. You can win. And winners can take a person with them to the convention," he explained. "If you so promise to choose and take me _when_ you win, I'll help you get there through editing and funding your entry fees."

Rachel retrieved the flyer and examined the contents. All the information was as Malchior said. She had heard of this writing league before, but never dreamed of having a chance at actually producing something they would read or even consider reading. And this would help Malchior if she took him. Of course she'd take him, she inwardly decided, who else?

"Yes," she whispered, then louder, "Yes, yes, Malchior, Yes! I want to help you. I want to write. I want to go to Europe and meet with these people and get us out of here."

He swooped down and kissed Rachel's lips in victory. Eventually, they broke away and he whispered, "To break this curse, you must learn more than a few simple grammatical remarks. I must teach you everything I know."

"Then let the training begin," she challenged before Malchior descended for another kiss.

It was a good day, Rachel declared.

She even agreed for a ridiculous selfie after she said yes. He promised her he'd post it to social media. Her phone lit up with said notification and it brought the smile back to her face. She also noticed she had a text from Gar. Probably another joke.

She slid her finger to open the notification that Malchior posted their photo with the caption: _I thought darkness had to be alone, and then I met her. _

It was the perfect amount of poetry and sincerity and so applicable to them, Rachel thought. _Them_. She liked that.

Rachel found her dorm room locked, odd, since she knew Kori was staying on campus for Fall Break. She dropped her messenger bag beside her bed, gingerly slipped off her jacket, and had just flopped on her bed when she heard a knock.

"Yeah?" She assumed it was Kori.

"Rachel, it's me, Gar," notified the person on the other side of the wood. She suppressed a groan. Lately, he has done nothing but try to talk with her. When will he get the hint that she doesn't need a joke every six seconds to have a happy life?

"What do you want?" She buried her head in her pillow.

"I just want to talk."

"What is with people and wanting to talk and hang out with me lately?" She grumbled to herself. Rachel stood and carefully checked to see if her shirt's sleeve covered the inside of her bicep's newest addition. Feeling secure, she stated, "Make it quick."

Gar instantly was in the room as if his hand had been on the knob, turned and ready to open at her permissive acknowledgement.

"Proceed," she commanded with a quirked eyebrow and crossing her arms, minding the plastic clear wrap on her arm. "I'm tired and want to go to bed. I have an early start in the morning with Malchior."

"That's what I want to talk with you about, Rae…chel," he began. "I overheard him and his roommate talking about you a few days ago, and… and Rachel, I think he's using you."

"Using me? For what?" she entertained his investigation with a bored expression.

"Well, Thomas said that the window was closing for Malchior to sweep you off your feet," Gar provided.

"That means nothing," she interjected. "Thomas, who is British and has unfamiliar sayings to we Americans, might I add, could have just meant Malchior needed to ask me out soon or else he might lose courage or I'd turn him down or something. Good night, Gar."

"No, there's more," he said insistently. "Malchior said he needed you."

"He did?" Her hard eyes softened at this. "That is… sweet. I mean, it's one thing for him to tell me that, but another for him to confess that to his suitemate." Her voice gathered a warm influence and her gaze held a far off look. Trouble, Gar predicted. She really was getting swept away!

"It's not what you think, Rae," Gar interrupted her fantasy. "Thomas warned Malchior not to mix up his heart in this mess. He said mess! He thinks you're a mess!"

"He's not wrong," she shrugged and untied her boots. "We're teenagers, we all have issues, Gar. Now good night."

"Rachel, you're not understanding me, he's using you somehow," insisted Gar despite Rachel opening the door wide for his exit.

"You've only proven to me that he really likes me."

"And do you like him?" Gar asked, struggling to stay calm at her impassiveness.

"What if I did? Why would you care?" Her violet eyes narrowed.

"I care because you're my friend, Rachel," Gar pleaded. "Please reconsider this guy; I don't want you to get hurt."

"Why? Just so you can be right in the fact that I'm creepy and dark and misunderstood and don't deserve to have someone who might feel the same way?"

"No, dude," defended he, frustration growing.

"Well, Gar, you're wrong," Rachel declared and at sudden impulse, yanked up her sleeve to reveal her bicep.

The dark ink contrasted with Rachel's pale skin, but it did have a sophisticated appeal. She'd still have another session of final shading and details on her tattoo, but she loved what it was as it was now: a raven. Not in flight and not in a flock, just a black raven of good luck.

"See? I have someone who understands my darkness and wants to be with me in spite of it!"

"What does a bird tattoo have anything to do with this? Did he get a matching one or something?"

"He can't afford one right now, but he went with me and found the perfect shop for me to get it at, because he cares, Gar," insisted Rachel as she mildly pulled the sleeve back over the ink. "It's going to bring us good luck on a project we began today."

"Look, I'm a C- student and you don't see me getting tattoos to pass a class project."

"It's not that kind of work," she scoffed. "He really believes in me and my talents."

"As a friend in concern for another friend," Gar responded, eyes large, begging her to believe him, "please be careful." He knew nothing more he could say would change her mind.

"Look," she exhaled before continuing, "I appreciate you wanting to tell me what you overheard, but I'm fine. I've been alone for the first sixteen years of my life; I know how to make decisions for myself, like this tattoo. Goodnight, Gar," she bid for the final time, shutting the door behind her.

He heard the click of a lock to cement her statement.

"Aw, Rae," he whispered to himself. "You're going to get your heart broke," repeated Gar as he dejectedly returned to his dorm.

* * *

Having just received his assignment to return to TA, Vic, with a large smile, grabbed a taxi and gave the address of Karen's home. He knocked anxiously on her door to have her mother open it cautiously.

"Oh!" She exclaimed in surprise.

"Good evenin', Mrs. Beecher," he began.

"Oh, please, call me Susan," interrupted Mrs. Beecher. "You must be that nice boy Karen's been telling me about." Vic beamed at that introduction. "Come on in, Mal."

Vic felt his stomach drop.

"Mal?" he inquired.

"Do you go by a different name? Karen mentioned how Mal is your middle name, but you claim that since your father is Herald already, right?"

Before he could answer or even correct the situation, a voice sounded, "Mom? Is Mal here?" Her voice dropped when Karen saw Vic standing in her home. "Vic?"

"Honey, this isn't-"

"No, Mom, it's okay, he's a friend," answered Karen, eyes locked on Vic in disbelief. After Mrs. Beecher departed, Karen took a shaky step forward.

"Why do you look like you've seen a ghost?" Vic asked, confused by her behavior.

"What are you doing here?" she quickly asked, voice hushed.

"Got my assignment to rejoin TA, baby," declared he with a large grin.

"I don't know about that decision anymore," she admitted.

"Say what? It's been, like, twelve hours since you encouraged me to get back to Titans Academy. Girl, what changed?" he inquired with a frown.

"On my way back home, I stopped at school to grab some breakfast from the cafeteria and overheard Atlas talking trash about you."

"And Sara?"

"I don't know," Karen shook her head and raised her shoulders, lost. "I know she's my roommate, but I hardly ever see her. She skips most cheer practices."

"She can do her own thing, but what's the big deal about Atlas talking smack? He does that about everybody all the time," pointed out Vic with a shrug.

"He was very steamed up about this one. Something about being called a 'scholarship kid', I think. But that's not all."

"What?" Vic forced himself to ask, feeling sick at calling Atlas that. He didn't mean to. He didn't even know if Atlas was one or not, and there'd be no shame either way.

"The Hive Five are all back," she added.

"So?"

"I'm just not sure if the Tower is the best place for you to pretend to be double agent."

"You do it all the time," Vic squinted his eyes accusingly at her with his statement.

"Yeah, but I also don't have an arch nemesis who thinks I'm after their significant other, and who has dirt on me that'd get me kicked out of my favorite sport," reasoned Karen with determination. "And those who _I'm_ trying to trick into believing I'm a double student were there after me. I got to set the stage for what I wanted them to think normal was. They know your normal and when you're lying. They'll snap you faster than most failed double students."

"Although you list some probably valid points," admitted Vic, "I'm comin' back, Bee. I belong with the Titans. It's where I want to be, as a student and as a normal teenager." He smiled, remembering her offer for him to not take up this H.I.V.E. fight. "Trust me, Bee," he charmed.

"Don't screw this up," commanded Karen in a teasing tone but with some authority as well. "And as much as I trust you, Stone, I'm gonna have to ask you to leave; company's comin'," she stated with a small, possibly sad, smile.

"Ah, right, Mal Duncan," he connected with a half smirk. "You two a thang?"

"I'll see you at school, Stone," she grinned with a gentle shove on his shoulder out the door, purposefully ignoring his question.

"See you Wednesday, Bee."

"See you Wednesday." She waved and closed the door gently behind her.

Having been gone nearly two weeks, Vic wasn't sure how to expect to find his dorm. For a few moments, he simply stood in the doorframe leading into the foyer, exhaustedly happy to be back at Titans Academy –even with the pretense of spying on said school for the H.I.V.E. Slogging, he made his way to his bed and dropped his few belongings by it.

Then, he backtracked to the foyer where something new caught his eye. He stared at the giant expanse of wall that he and his suitemates were sharing, and there near a receipt from a fancy country club meal Richard partook with Toni in the past fortnight, was a photo booth strip of four, square images. A colorful logo on top of first shot of Richard gesturing to the camera for the partner to look at it and a ducking redhead told Vic that the pair had their photo booth photo shoot at the park Richard went jogging at sometimes.

Judging by the date faintly printed on the bottom, he knew they were there earlier today. The next image of the strip was of Richard looking skeptical at whatever Kori was suggesting. Then, the following image was of them throwing up deuces with goofy grins, but the real plot twist was that Kori was donning Richard's signature sunglasses –the very ones he never lets anybody touch or tell him to take off. Finally, in the last shot, the glasses were slipping off her small nose and her chortling face while Richard was busting up as well with his fist at his grinning mouth.

It was a well-rounded montage of all that Vic has missed the past couple weeks. He was glad, though, that Kori was opening up to someone. The fact that that someone was Richard closed-off-to-the-world-Boy-Wonder Grayson was equally swell, in Vic's opinion. They each needed someone, a friend, and they were finding it in each other. He just hoped Richard wouldn't screw this up –Vic knew that if anything were to be thrown off in this dynamic, it'd be the Boy Wonder.

* * *

The rhythmic manner of the friends' dynamic immediately draped over the group once they realized Vic was back on campus Tuesday morning. Perched in the living room of the Tower was Richard explaining Twitter to Kori, and Gar and Vic slamming hardcore into the _GameStation_ for a long overdue rematch. Even if out of commission for a few weeks, Vic was catching up fast to Gar, but he suddenly halted his actions when he saw Rachel enter the proximity.

Smiling, Rachel gently hummed to herself as she glided to the counter and snagged a fresh apple for her mid-morning grub.

"Um, hey, Rachel," breaking the ice was Richard, calmly walking over to her in the kitchen. "Haven't seen you around much lately."

"Yeah, because she hasn't left her room or work for weeks," was Gar's muttered commentary, which was quickly halted with Vic grabbing his green head and pulling into a headlock for silence.

"I, uh, like the new look," he said, ignoring Gar's struggle to escape his grip.

"Thanks," beamed Rachel. Not a speck of her signature black attire dotted her outfit. The white dress on her was both girly and flirty –aspects none of the friends knew Rachel to display.

Silently, Gar noted that it was a long sleeved skater dress –impeccably covering her arms, or _arm_ more specifically. Tattoos weren't prohibited at Titans Academy, but they were definitely rare, and it was against the rules to have one under the age of 18 without parental consent. Gar could guarantee that Rachel was neither the required age or had the approval of her 'rents.

"So, when do we get to meet this friend of yours?" asked Richard kindly.

"Soon," promised Rachel. "We've been working on a project lately, and that's why we haven't been around."

"I am unable to wait," enthused Kori, bouncing up and down slightly. "Gar has told us much about the Malchior and how he works at the Tome of Tea with you."

"Now how would Gar know that?" Rachel in a teasing tone proposed.

"Uh, hah," stalled Gar sheepishly, "I may have kinda been a fly-on-the-wall and went to Tea's Tome a few times in disguise."

"Funny, that is more of rat behavior to me." She said this with a smirk, but Gar felt like she may have meant it for a double meaning.

"Doesn't Malchior go here?" Vic piped up. "I know I've been gone, but how have we not met him?"

"He's a year older," Rachel informed, "And tends to take his classwork to the library or outside of school instead of in the school." Perk or TA was that courses have hybrid options for upper classmen. Often juniors and seniors schedule their seated classes on certain days of the week, and then do the online portions later so they can have a job or even some college courses during the other days of the school week.

"Well, Rachel, we're happy for you," concluded Richard with a small smile.

"Most definitely," Kori agreed, grinning. She would be lying if she said that with this change of Rachel having Malchior around would make her roommate want to open up and befriend Kori.

"Yeah, girl," concurred Vic, "It's fun being a relationship." He paused and glanced at Gar who sat oddly quiet during the past few moments. Vic nudged his roommate with his should and nodded his head towards Rachel.

"Right," mumbled Gar, eyes downcast and shoulders hunched, "I'm sure this won't be a _mess_."

For the first time during the entire conversation, Rachel's smile faltered and her eyes narrowed at Gar.

"It won't be," she assured. "I know what I'm doing." She pivoted and promptly left, forgetting her apple. Everyone immediately shot their gazes at Gar who shrunk at the harsh attention, jumped up to grab the fruit, and bounded after the girl.

"Rachel," he called as he jogged and blockaded her path with his body.

"What are you doing?"

"Funny," he quoted, "I was just about to ask you that, Rachel. What are you doing with Malchior? Skipping class, getting tattoos, wearing different clothes."

"Look, I don't owe you an explanation for my life decisions, but if you must know, I'm helping a friend with a problem. And that friend just so happens to be a handsome, funny, and intelligent young man who really likes me and pushes me to be better and who values me for who I am, creepiness and all." She spat the latter portion of the sentence at Gar for emphasis.

"Rae, I should have never called you creepy," he admitted. "Can't we let that go and still be friends?"

"You're not sorry you said it," she called out, "you're sorry I keep bringing it up."

"No," he objected with a shake of his head. "I am sorry for saying that, I didn't mean it, and I do feel bad when it's brought up because I wish I never said that! Let it go, Rae. It's called forgiveness. Here," he protruded the fruit from his grip and dropped it into her hand that was a limp landing pad, "You forgot your apple." For a minute, she stared at the fruit in hand and then up at Gar's face. She nodded and quickly scurried away, back to her room to work on whatever she was doing with Malchior, Gar presumed with a sigh.

Early afternoon later that Tuesday, Malchior was called in for an emergency shift, leaving Rachel alone in the newsmagazine room with no bright ideas for her writing piece. She began to pace the room, but was feeling claustrophobic, so she exited the classroom and started to meander the halls. Eventually, her feet brought her to the living room area once again, and still the group remained in the space.

"Greetings, Rachel," Kori called when she spotted the violet haired girl in the doorway. "Join us, Gar is doing the magic cards of tricks!"

"He's trying to recreate that magic show down by the pier," filled in Richard.

"Trying and failing," muttered Vic as he struggled to stay awake for the presentation.

"I think he needs a refresher," Rachel commentated.

"Oh, yeah? How 'bout you try, then," suggested Gar, flustered at his audience's lack of rapture, except Kori, that is.

"I'm not into that," she simply commented.

"C'mon, Rae, you're the best one here at slight of hand tricks," egged Gar with a goofy grin.

"Pass," she said.

"Fine," resolved Gar. "Then, we'll just have to hit up the original source. To the pier!" He exclaimed with a determined finger pointing into the air. Rachel, Vic, Richard, and Kori all stared at him, unimpressed. "Dudes, let's go! If we leave now, we can make the 3 o'clock show and then maybe catch a few rides before it gets dark."

"Ya'll, that would be pretty fun," agreed Vic with a shrug.

"I don't know…" stalled Richard, fearing the possible crowds that the carnival on the pier brings. It was nice not having to make any public appearances the past two days since he's been with Kori.

"I bet there'd be no lines since it's a Tuesday in October," Gar encouraged, selling the idea to Richard who then agreed.

"I have never experience the carnival or a pier and would enjoy it much, I am sure," Kori reported with a smile.

"We have to be back at school by the time Malchior's shift ends," conditioned Rachel hesitantly.

"Score!" shouted Gar with double fist pumps.

"Who scored?" asked Wally as he, Roy, and Jade entered the living room.

"You guys are back already?" Richard answered in question.

"Yep, we didn't want to have to drive in the dark, so we just left after brunch," replied Roy, and then repeated Wally's inquiry.

The five informed the entering trio their plans to hit up the pier's carnival before it got too much later and chillier, and the newer three were pumped to be included in the invite. Therefore, eight filed to the garage after snagged jackets and sturdy walking shoes. Vic horded Roy, Jade, Wally, Gar, and Rachel in his Cy-car. Rachel showing no mercy in claiming the shot gun position, forcing the other four to cram in the back. Thankfully, when Vic was designing and building his baby, he provided adequate legroom –a perk for the long legs of both Wally and Roy.

Richard protruded the passenger helmet to his motorcycle once again to Kori; she hesitated, but took it. He reassured her that they could take another taxi or that Alfred could send over one of Richard's vehicles, but Kori shook her head and insisted to ride the bike.

"Okay," smiled he as he climbed on and then turned and motioned for the paling girl to perch behind him. Slowly, she too sat upon the motorcycle. "Hang on," he coached.

"To what?"

"Um, to me," coughed Richard.

"Oh." He saw her rub her fingernails together in nervousness. "Okay." She cautiously grabbed the sides of his leather jacket and leaned back with as much space between their bodies as possible. He hid his chuff at her shyness with a rev of the engine, and then zoomed down the garage tunnel after the Cy-car's exit.

* * *

Boisterously but joyfully, the eight entered the pier for the carnival. Much to their pleasure, Richard whipped out his wallet and covered all of their entrance fees. They hustled to the magic show and barely were seated before the street magician appeared and began his tricks. Naturally, when he asked for an audience volunteer, Kori, Gar, and Wally's hands were shot up in the air immediately. At some point, all three were able to participate in the show much to the pleasure of all the respective roommates of the volunteers so they then wouldn't have to hear the disappointment of not being picked.

After the performance and a browse through the over-priced accompanying shop, the debate for what rides to be accomplished first then aroused. The final result being the tilt-a-whirl since four could huddle in a pod. Richard guided Kori who joined Rachel and Gar in one spinner, with Vic, Wally, Roy, and Jade in the neighboring one.

The ride was exhilarating to Kori who screamed frequently. Wally and Gar kept trying to jump out of the pod without being noticed by the carny or Rachel scolding them for being immature.

Jade leaned into Roy from the wind to protect her hair she insisted. When her excuse was brought up by Vic's observation, Gar made a claim that if she used as much hair gel as Richard, not even hurricane could defect the mane then. Richard simply shrugged and smirked as he shot a wink at Kori and Jade as they exited the tilt-a-whirl pod.

Next, Vic insisted on some of the games; rides weren't his thing. Roy and Richard bee-lined to the archery gaming booth with Jade and Kori in tow. Wally spotted a cute gal in the snack area, and meandered in that direction, leaving Rachel with Vic and Gar who were at the squirt gun game.

Multiple cycles of carnival games began and concluded, and Kori enjoyed the healthy aspect of competition –typically, people let her win back home- but found the eight round of archery to be a bit redundant. She wandered down the pier a ways solo and found a nice spot of railing not obstructed by carnivals games or couples –a true diamond discovery indeed.

Watching the rail for bird droppings as Richard warned her earlier, she leaned her forearms against the wood and peered over the scene. Behind her were the sounds of children laughing, games dinging with winners, food being deep-fried, and feet clamoring along the boards. The lights from the rides were alive even though there was still nearly an hour until sunset. Neon dots of purple, yellow, green, and blue speckled the darkening water in front of Kori. Lost in the picturesque scenery around her, she did not hear someone approach.

"This spot taken?" She whipped her head around to observe her intruder. Xavier Red.

"Um, no," she finally answered, shifting her gaze back to the water.

Silently, he strolled up to her left and leaned against the railing much like how she was. He didn't say anything; he seemed content in the silence. Kori tried to spy on him through the side of her eyes without giving away her motives, but she was curious as to why he joined her if he was not going to speak to her; he often did in school.

"Are you staying for the fireworks?" He suddenly, randomly, inquired with his focus locked on the water.

"What is that?" Kori asked, unsure of fireworks. Her time in America has truly showed her how sheltered Tameran was to the rest of the world. The downsides of attempting complete independence.

"They're like, lights in the sky that explode," weakly, he explained.

"How freighting," she commentated.

"They're meant for celebration," offhandedly he suggested. "So, you staying for them?" He turned and faced her now with his question.

"I am not sure," honestly, she answered. "I do not know my friends' itinerary."

"Don't you get a say in what goes on?"

"I am fine with most things," simply, she replied with a gentle shrug.

"They do a fireworks show almost every night," veered back Xavier. "Including holidays like Christmas and New Year's."

"Festive," commented Kori even though the idea of fireworks was still hazy with her.

"Don't go for New Year's," burst Xavier in a serious tone. Kori rotated to face Xavier who met her gaze with a harsh expression.

"Do not what?"

"Don't come to the pier for fireworks on New Year's Eve, Kori," he repeated, tone still dark. He shifted and added in explanation with a lighter voice, "Crowds."

Dumbly and confused, she only nodded. He bid her good-bye and vanished almost as quickly and quietly as he arrived. His body was soon replaced.

"Xavier feeling chatty today?" asked Richard as he came to the rail by Kori.

"I suppose so," she said.

"What'd you guys talk about?"

"I am not even sure," honestly, she answered. "I think fireworks –whatever that is- and how we should not come here to the pier on New Year's Eve due to the crowd."

"Weird," outwardly commentated Richard, but inwardly he puzzled over the tidbits. Analyzing Xavier's advice for double meanings and hidden meanings because Richard was slightly paranoid with the H.I.V.E. and double student situation.

Then, Richard processed all that Kori said. "Wait, you don't know what fireworks are?"

"Sounds terrifying," supposed Kori. In reply, he only grinned and with his hands still coolly tucked in his leather jacket pockets, he bucked his head towards the end of the pier.

Strategically, the cotton candy cart was located near the rides that typically had longer lines. Immediately, Richard snagged a pink fluff on a cone and offered to buy Kori one, too, but she could only remember trying some of that cotton offered by Kitten at the latest football game during a break for the cheerleaders. It did not taste very good, and she proceeded to inform Richard of that when he offered her some of his candy once they were seated in the swinging Ferris wheel boat.

They were silent as the ride wheeled them forward and suddenly the sky burst into color. Kori jumped and shrunk into the seat for a moment, but then observed Richard's calm demeanor and realized this must be what they were waiting for. Skeptically, she watched the colors literally explode in front of her.

"Beautiful," she murmured in awe. "Tell me again what they are called."

"Fireworks," he answered with a smile. Richard couldn't peg why, but he loved sharing his world with this foreigner and watching her absorb American ways with enthusiasm.

"In my home country, such explosions would mean that the Gordanians are attacking," Kori commented, emerald orbs fixated on the fireworks, but her tone indicated she wasn't really seeing them and seemed transported back home. She shook herself out of her memory and faced Richard as she asked, "You are certain America is not under attack?"

"Positive," encouraged Richard. Not sure how to ease her troubles since he could see how pensive Kori still was, he tried one last time in offering her, "Cotton candy?"

Kori scrunched her face at the ball of cotton. "This is different," he further encouraged when remembering her last experience. As if to cement his point, he plucked a decent amount from the fluff and threw it into his mouth. He extended the pink to her once more and she delicately tore off a dainty amount and followed his lead and dropped it into her mouth.

"Mhmm," she smiled and then squealed, "Oh! It vanished!"

Richard laughed; she always gets him to do that. "Yeah, it'll do that," commentated he on the candy's antics.

"When-when I first came to this country, I thought I would never fit in," confessed Kori. "It was full of strange things, but I-"

Dozens of popping sounds erupted across the sky as Richard excitedly exclaimed, "Here comes the finale!"

She paused her speech and observed the colorings littering the dark, American sky, and then slid a glance at her Ferris wheel pod partner.

"Ah-mazing!" He said, flopping back in his seat when the fireworks died away and the sulfur smell rose up to greet them. The wheel began rotating once more.

As they summited to the full height, Kori quietly concluded, "America is full of amazing things too." She reflected upon her short stay she has had thus far in the States. From the grand things like befriending such an interesting mix of American teenagers –goofy Gar, confidant Karen, the brotherly love from Vic, the toleration Rachel provided, the chats with Xavier, the protectiveness of Roy, Wally, and Jade, and the guidance and support from Richard despite his mysteries. Minor, every day things also helped her realize the amazing aspects of America: cheerleading, fast food, homework, the booth of photos, carnivals, and vanishing cotton, it all was wonderful.

She pushed aside her guilt at having such a fun and safe stay while many people back home did not have that luxury or pleasure. Like her parents and Foster and her sister.

"Best country I've ever been to," Richard remarked as he laid his arm on the side of tub; this brought Kori back to the present. She opened her mouth to reply when an odd drone-like flying device then hovered before their cab and aggressively rammed against Kori's side.

"Excuse you," Kori declared with a frown. "That is very rude."

Richard jolted at the sudden hit to the carriage. "What the-"

The Ferris wheel was descending when it creaked louder than any previous common noises and the bar sprang open as the seat tipped forward. Kori released a scream and attempted to grab anything solid.

"Kori!" Richard shouted as he realized her seat belt had ben cut off and how should she know if American Ferris wheels have belts or not? "Hang on," he lamely commanded as he extended his reach to grab her hand. The drone slammed once more into the tilted cab and then it literally pushed Kori forward. Desperate, he yelled her name "KORI!" Shock consumed him as he helplessly watched one of his best friends slip from the Ferris wheel cab, her hand reaching towards him for aid he could not provide with her falling out of reach.

* * *

Rachel found her niche in the lively carnival scene of leaning against whatever game booth Gar and Vic found themselves competing at. So far the hand-eye coordination recreations Vic was winning, but Gar was keeping up with the more precision and detail games. Thus far, they each won multiple prizes, but just gave them to passing by families, except Gar kept three goldfish he won at the obstacle course race, and Vic quickly pocketed a key chain after quietly consulting with the carny.

Evening was soon to cascade upon the pier; meaning Malchior's work shift would end in a little over an hour, so Rachel was ready to return to school. It's not that she hated spending time with her friends, but being an introvert, excessive social outings were exhausting to her sometimes –hours with crowds at a carnival qualified for tiring in her book.

She was in the midst of wishing she had brought along a book, when she heard Gar get overly excited about the milk bottle ring toss. He seized her wrist and Vic guided her from behind like a dolly so the trio would approach the stand. Once more, she rolled her eyes, found a quieter, open space of wall to press her back against, and proceeded to stare at the sky in attempt to star gaze. She lost her hands in the baggy jacket provided by Malchior. The outerwear covered the majority of her white skater dress, but her indigo leggings tucked into floral combat boots were visible under the grey racer jacket.

"I won! I won!" erupted Gar in cheer after a few minutes of plastic rings clanking on milk bottles. The carny had about as much enthusiasm as Rachel possessed yet dutifully handed the selected prize to Gar. "Told ya I'd win you a prize," continued Gar in his cheery tone.

"A giant chicken," commentated Rachel as she robotically received the cheaply made stuffed animal. Clutching it to her chest, it clucked. Sarcastically and drily she added, "I must be the luckiest girl in the world."

"Guys, trouble!" Richard exclaimed as he bounded around the corner and skidded to a stop close to the ground from his momentum.

"Where's Kori?" inquired Vic.

"That's the trouble," grimly, replied Richard. Vic nodded and bolted after Richard's lead, Rachel chucked the chicken where she was earlier and followed after the duo with Gar close behind. Richard directed them to the spot where Kori fell and it appeared she was in the grip of the drone's mechanical arms. She kick-flipped the device in its circuits and tumbled out of its reach, but it continued to pursue her.

"No more chasing now, please," ordered Kori as she dodged its reach.

"Who's her new best friend?" Gar asked as they neared the perameter.

"I don't know," seethed Richard, "but I'd love to find out."

Kori outran the drone and Gar made the move to clamp the arms with wide arms like a crocodile smile. Rachel chucked hot dogs at its face and Vic finally was able to get a hold on the arms.

"I don't know what you did to make it mad, Kor, but it wouldn't hurt to apologize," suggested Vic as he struggled to maintain his hold.

"I am… sorry?" Kori replied as the drone wiggled from the teenager's hands and zoomed once more at her. Finally, Richard was able to roundhouse kick the main circuits.

"Making an off switch," he announced as he climbed on top of the small, but powerful drone and drove his fist into the weak kinks of te mechanism, causing it to burn out and explode like the fireworks and then flutter to the water. "Whatever that thing was, it can't hurt you anymore," comforted Richard. He lacked a smile and was out of breath, but it was still reassuring to her.

"Dudes, why did it want to hurt Kori at all?" questioned Gar. "She's like bubbly rainbow sprinkles."

"Uh, thank you?"

"Whatever the grass stain means," interjected Vic, "you're safe now, little lady." He offered a warm smile and Rachel provided a nod.

Roy, Wally, and Jade then entered the scene and asked them if everything was okay. Fibbing, they all said yes, but then quickly agreed to go back to the tower.

* * *

"Everyone," began Kori once they were back on campus and entering the living room in the tower, "I wish to thank you for my rescue by reciting the Poem of Gratitude, all 6,000 verses!"

"Uh," stammered Gar.

"I see you haven't changed a bit," commented a new voice to the group. They all gazed upon a tall, dark-haired girl who closely resembled Kori. Her hair was black-indigo, contrasting to Kori's bright red, but they both had orange-brown tans and facial features. The newcomer's eyes were more slanted and darker than Kori's wide, emerald green ones. "When we were little, I was always rescuing Kori," she claimed. Her voice was also lower than Kori's. At this statement, Kori stood like a statue.

"What, you're not going to greet your big sis?" asked the stranger.

"Uh, sister!" greeted Kori. She embraced the girl and whispered to her ear only, "What are you doing here?"

"Sister?" questioned Richard under his breath.

"Brought you a present," bribed the sister as she held up a necklace with a large green rock –conveniently ignoring Kori's inquiry on her presence at TA.

"A Centauri Moon diamond?!" Kori exclaimed. "Where did you-"

"On the Centauri Moon Islands, of course," interrupted the sister. "Oh, look, it matches your eyes." The green hues of the gem did correlate with Kori's orbs.

"Thank you! Let me introduce you to my friends!" This was the first time Kori verbally announced what these people were to her. She did not know if they were aware of this step in her trusting them, but she felt like she hit a milestone regardless.

"Friends, this is my sister," began Kori. Her sister angled beside Kori to stand in front of her and stated her own introduction.

"Komi," she declared. "And since I know so much about you already, let me guess." Komi pressed her long finger to her lips and approached Vic. "Victor Stone."

"Pleasure to meet you, little lady," he greeted. Komi shook his hand and saw him visibly wince. "Little lady, big hand shake, well alright," he smiled. She smirked and moved to the next person.

"Rachel Roth, I like your gemstone on your chakra," she commented.

"You… know about chakras?" inquired Rachel, a faint smile evident on her face.

"I got way into mediation when I vacayed in India and Caribbean Islands," Komi replied as if it was obvious. "Gar, what's up!"

"Nothing but the ceiling, baby," he chimed with a large grin, earning a laugh and comment on his funniness from Komi. He leaned to Rachel, "See, she thinks I'm funny."

"Statically, I suppose someone has to," deadpanned Rachel with a roll of her violet eyes. Gar frowned and moved back to Komi's introductions.

"And you must be Richard Grayson," she concluded. "I'm loving this helmet, it's positively luscious." She reached forward and gripped the helmet while Richard still had a hold on it as well.

"Thanks," he answered good-naturedly. "Les Ateliers Ruby limited edition from their liquidation sale back in December of '14. Ten times better than any other helmet on the market."

"Oh, I bet," cooed Komi. "And I'm into the sunglasses look even though it's dark out and you're indoors. Makes you seem so _mysterious_."

"So!" interjected Kori, "Beloved sister, what brings you to America?"

"I was in the continent," casually she commented. "Thought I'd see if Americans like to party." She sashayed away from the group and jumped over the back of the couch to seamlessly land on the pillows.

"Boy, do we," commentated Gar, earning Komi to shoot him a wink and him to look to the ground and will his cheeks to not pink.

"Besides," egged on Komi, "I needed a rest; nearly got sucked down to the bottom of the ocean on my way here."

"Cool!"

"Dude, no way."

"What happened?"

Chorused from the boys as they took the bait and huddled around Komi lounging on the couch.

"Okay, so I'm cruising through the Decornis Sea-"

"Sister," interrupted Kori, "The Decornis Sea is full of whirlpools. You know that travel through there is forbidden with our trade agreement with the Centauri people."

"Most fun things in life are," shook off Komi with a devious smile. "Now, be a sweetie and fetch me an American snack. I'm absolutely famished, and have been dying to try a _Lunchable_." Komi turned back to her audience; even Rachel shifted near them, but had her phone out for when Malchior contacted her. "So I'm zooming over the shallows and approaching a tropical storm…"

Kori sighed and complied, grateful that at least the task of fixing a snack permitted her the excuse to tune out the story of her adventurous sibling. "I see you have not changed either," she commentated to herself, yanking a _Lunchable_ from the fridge and arranging it onto a plate. Kori pace herself enough with rearranging the crackers to arrive at the end of Komi's exotic tale.

"Oh, sweetie, I'm not hungry anymore, thanks," waved off Komi as she stood and stretched. Kori dropped the plate on the counter and meandered to join the others on the couch just as they all rose to their feet, each with comments about the time or homework. Rachel left minutes ago to go be with Malchior. In moments, it was just the two foreign sisters remaining in the living room. "Hey, sis, thanks for letting me drop by, but I got to beat it."

"How did you get into the school and not be a student?" suddenly asked Kori as she reflected upon the security TA supplied.

"Enrolled online this morning," chimed Komi as she produced a student ID card from her pocket.

"Oh, how glorious for us to be together," drily Kori said.

"I know," ascertained the older sibling with a dramatic hair flip. "I may skip a few days, though, so don't worry about me." She grabbed Kori's face with one hand and squeezed her cheeks with her statement. Kori wiggled out of the embrace and rubbed her face.

"How did you even find me, sister?" Kori demanded as she blocked the hand of her sister coming to ruffle her hair. "No one is supposed to know my location –especially someone in my own family."

"Sister dear, I've been gone for years, I don't know what lameo rules the Grand Ruler has made and not made," Komi sighed. "Didn't know I was shunned from your whereabouts."

"You have your spies, Komi," stated Kori, dodging another hand from a second attempting of hair rumpling. "You know very well what kind of state Tameran is in –thanks to you!"

"Thanks to me?!" Komi scoffed. "Oh, no, we are not going there, dear Kori. We both know that Tameran is up in flames, and me leaving is only a portion as to why, wouldn't you say, _escapee_ of the Citadel," spat the dark haired Tameran with narrow, dark eyes. Her think eyeliner only intensified the older sibling's power and authority.

"I had no choice but to flea from them," Kori stated, stiffening her chin. She was not going to show Komi that she was already weakening her. "They were not going to hold up their end of the bargain."

"How would you know? You're just a pawn in this political game," degraded Komi, flicking some dust from her tight armor.

"Handcuffing and torture were not part of the deal, regardless of station," determinedly, Kori replied. Komi didn't visibly respond –her poker face was always prime- but she did straighten to her full height since she bent to meet Kori in the eyes in their earlier statements.

"If you want a pity party for your treatment or an apology because I was who arranged that set-up, you'll get neither, little sister."

"You do owe me some answers, though, Komi," commanded Kori, folding her arms over her chest to hide her rapid breathing and shaking fists.

"We shall see," she replied. Komi then pivoted on her boots –the type warriors don for battle, knee-high, thick leather with armor on the soles, toes, and thighs along with the latest addition of flexible steel in the shins- and strutted out of the living room. "Oh," she paused her exit and turned over her shoulder to look back at Kori, "I'm crashing at a friend's near the city, by the way. Don't wait up. See you in geometry, little sis." And then she was gone.

* * *

**Author's Note:** Wow! A LOT was covered in that chapter! Please review if you can! Have a blessed day! :)

Noticeable quotes, scenes/situations from episodes: _Deception, Spellbound,_ and _Sisters._


	13. Chapter 12 - Rivalries

**Author's Note:** Hello, friends! Yes, I am still with this fanfiction, but thank YOU for still being with me through this, too! You're gems. I truly appreciate each and every view and each and every review. Shoutout to the beautiful words by _TheUltimateStar, AngelaLove072101,_ _MelancholyMemories_ and multiple guests -thank you! You are great encouragers. Enjoy this chapter! I hope to get another one out before too long, but life does get crazy sometimes. :)

_(Tiny update and edit made on 3/16/17)_

* * *

"_See you in geometry, little sis."_

Words of Komi paraded inside Kori's head all morning the following day, Wednesday. She was absentminded in the history group project with Richard, Vic, Rachel, and Gar. For once she was not the first to answer in French, much to the class's surprise and slight annoyance at actually having to now answer. Kori was deaf to Kitten's typical insults thrown her way during third period in sophomore science; Rachel was done with the peculiar behavior of her roommate, she had long tuned out the world that morning.

Stomach churning more than when the weird drones attacked her on the Ferris wheel at the pier yesterday, Kori was nauseous and absolutely dreading next period: geometry.

Richard was absorbed in texting Toni as the bell rang for Kori to slip him word of her worries.

_No bother, _she thought to herself_, I have solved my problems by myself before coming to America and gaining caring peers, I can do it now._

Only Komi didn't silently glide into a seat much like how Kori entered the TA world. No, Komi paraded in like a powerful storm to be feared and revered. Her mere stance demanded attention, and Kori already knew she was not going to further accomplish the Pythagorean Theorem this class time.

If she thought she deserved a few spare moments alone with her older sister for discussion over some puzzling statements by Komi last night, she was wrong. Komi took the entire class period to introduce herself, spin witty jokes to Mr. Mumbo, and croon over where to sit despite every boy vacating their seat to make way for the grand Komi Anders. If anyone noticed the same surname as Kori, no mention was made. Their appearances in facial structure and body physic were mirrored, but the confidence radiating out of Komi outshined any awkward wave Kori managed on her first day at TA. Plus, Komi's perfect grammar didn't match up to Kori's more broken version of English that possessed literal interpretations of sarcasm and lacked contractions.

Yes, relations between the Anders sisters weren't established to the peers practically eating out of Komi's hands. Hands, which, Kori noted, were decorated with jewelry she recognized from her own jewelry box. In fact, Komi's whole wardrobe consisted of clothes that were hanging in _Kori's_ closet hours earlier. How did Komi enter her dorm room for the raid already? How was she always so cool and calm with other people, and especially with Americans? Komi always had the know-how of the American ways when they were growing up. Whether she watched more television or read more or simply explored much more than Kori ever dared, she wasn't sure how or why her sister impeccably fit into the culture of America, but it didn't sit well with Kori. In fact, excusing herself to an awestruck Mr. Mumbo to go to the nurse was all she could manage before bursting into the hallway for freedom from Komi's gravity.

* * *

Ecstatic didn't even begin to encompass Gar's enthusiasm for Vic's triumphant return to TA. Maybe it was because he was primarily an extrovert and thrived when around people (unless he was engrossed in a video game or his favorite television show, of course). Maybe he truly did bond with Victor Stone and the concept of having a person to goof off with and cast no judgment as the hours of game playing racked up throughout the semester –being an only child makes for an interesting set up when sharing a rooming space, Gar also learned.

Maybe, a tiny spot deep inside Gar's gut proposed, just maybe, the ecstasy was because Gar couldn't count on two hands of the people who have stuck around in his life, let alone taken an interest in him.

Thoughts such as these always made him feel guilty, however; he knew his Aunt Rita was his number one fan and did her best as a mom, dad, family relation, principal, and caregiver all wrapped up in one. If there was anyone in the world that could stretch oneself into so many different areas and still be present and engaged in the here and now, it was Rita Farr, concluded Gar.

He was humbled to know her and saddened that many of his fellow TA classmates only saw Rita's principal side. Sure, like any good administrator, she was tough and no nonsense, but she was also compassionate. It was Rita who homeschooled fifth grade Gar in Jump before he transferred to Patrol Academy in De Oom City for a few years. Even though he boarded in De Oom, he'd still come back to Aunt Rita's every weekend. Then, he finally confessed to Rita how often he purposefully missed classed and just wanted to come back to Jump City for good. After eighth grade, she moved him back to her zip code. More than once, Gar witnessed Rita trudging through the entryway in the small home; she'd be exhausted from the day that had been going hours before the sun went to work. It wouldn't be long until she was a puddle, pondering and empathizing over the backstories of her students. After the relapse, she'd pull herself together, zone back on target, and make a nine p.m. dinner for the two of them. These memories were primarily when Gar was a kid in middle school, back when Rita was a teacher. She tore up a storm at a small, underprivileged high school as an English teacher slash life coach.

Currently, she still invested the time and energy into making her kids great, only now as a principal of one of the most distinguished secondary institutions in the nation. Gar was meandering to lunch with all of these thoughts fresh in his mind when he saw said aunt down the hall doing her Golden Hour ritual greetings to the students she passed by.

"Afternoon, Auntie Principal," called Gar, raising a hand as he hung onto his backpack strap with the other.

"Good afternoon, Gar," she greeted, a special smile overtaking her perky, motherly face. "How are you today?"

"Nothing can bring me down!" He proclaimed with a fist pump into the air, earning a laugh from his aunt. "Vic, my roommate, re-enrolled yesterday and is officially a TA student once again."

"I heard," she nodded politely, "however, I do believe he never vacated his enrollment. It seems he partook a homebound study for a few weeks."

This didn't make sense to Gar. Rita knew Vic left. Like, legitimately enrolled in another school, said _sayonara_ to TA. Then, Gar glanced at a manila folder in her hands. She offered it to him, which he numbly took, still confused at her behavior, though. He caught the wink she tossed his way and pivoted to return to her office as if she was only in the hallway to give him this information. He glanced down and peeked into the folder. The official transfer requests Vic had made were voided and marked for disposal. Puzzled, he stared at the documents for a few minutes longer.

Suddenly, it clicked. If Vic had unrolled from TA, he'd be disqualified for his scholarships and for the football team upon his arrival. Rita forged his un-enrollment papers into a long span of homebound tutoring –a move keeping him on the team and with his scholarships. Gar wasn't sure if this was entirely legal, but he was glad his aunt would do such a move for him.

This spurred on another memory Gar had of his aunt. Three years ago, Rita announced that she was switching from being a teacher in a low-socioeconomic high school to a principal at Titans Academy.

"Why?" Gar had asked. He knew she had her administrative degree for some time now, so why was Rita swapping jobs at this moment? "I thought you loved being a resource to the underprivileged."

"Oh, I do, Gar," she had replied, "but the boys at Titans are underprivileged as well –all they have _is_ money."

"How is _that_ a problem?" a not-quite-thirteen-year-old Gar scoffed at this aunt's reasoning.

"These boys have been handed solutions and money all their lives, but never opportunities to problem-solve or deal with their influence in a positive manner," she explained patiently. Then, after a moment of thought, she added, "Plus, someone has to teach those boys how to behave like gentlemen."

"And you're going to do that as a female principal?"

"By opening enrollment to both genders."

Granted, it took some time on the school board's part to confirm all the negotiations and building plans for the added gender, but it was passed and went into effect last January. This year will be the first full school year of the male-female enrollment. Gar wasn't sure if his aunt was pleased with the progress of the boys-to-gentlemen yet or not, but personally, he secretly hoped he was qualifying for that graduation just as much as a diploma in two years.

Yeah, smiled Gar to himself and clutched the manila folder, he only had a small handful of people who would stand by him the way she does, but when Aunt Principal Rita Farr is in your corner, whom else could you need? Maybe a great roommate and suitemate, but not much else, Gar decided as he ripped up the manila folder and its contents in half. He finished his trek to lunch, tossing the shredded evidence of an absent roommate into the garbage can, and grabbing a lunch tray to join Vic at their table smoothly and with a bounce back in his step.

* * *

Leaning her head against a locker as she tried to breath in the air to calm her racing nerves, Kori contemplated all the confusing features about her sister. Komi, to her knowledge, has never been to America before, and yet has enrolled in Titans Academy, possessed connections to people near the city because she said she was staying with them, invaded Kori's personal space via theft of attire, and was wooing every beating heart in the proximity of the continental United States all in her first few hours of touching the soil!

However, with all of this in consideration, what stumped Kori the most was how much her sister was aware of her friends; how she knew what to talk about with each individual to instantly win their trust and friendship in the few seconds of their presence. Komi stated something about knowing so much about them, and Kori just immediately assumed transmissions back home, but then she realized she never told Foster about her friends. She never told any Tameranean or other human being about her friendships made at Titans Academy. So, then, how did Komi become acquainted with them?

Frustrated and perplexed by the last twelve hours, Kori released a groan and rubbed her eyes to help her perk up more. As she removed her hands from her face, she noticed shadows predict some approaching people. Quickly, Kori ducked into a nearby Study Nook to observe the other class skipper and was shocked to see not just one absentee, but two; the two students being Rachel and Malchior. The violet-haired girl giggled at some joke the pale blond must have jested just then. Quickly, they trekked down the hall, towards the room where they've been developing the project Malchior asked Rachel to help him with –as dished Gar when he reported back from eavesdropping a few days earlier.

Rachel is now a class skipper, and missing out on that one British class she adored so much even! Kori shook her head in confusion and exited the nook. Water was much needed at the moment and the slog to the water fountain and back to the geometry cage would time out perfectly for the dismissal bell.

Just as she predicted, as soon as Kori entered the math room from her water break, the bell rang and the flurry of students trying to escape the room for the freedom of the Golden Hour ensued. Politely, Kori stepped aside from the door to dodge the human bombardment, realizing it would be futile to fight the current to reach her seat with her bag until the students ceased. Once empty, she hustled to her bag and began to place her textbooks, pencils, and notebook in their proper locations inside her bag. She halted her procedure when she felt a presence behind her. Whipping around in fear, she was ready to strike the approaching threat, but froze when she realized who was in the proximity.

"Hello, sister dear."

"Sister," Kori replied in a monotone voice, "Greetings."

"Borrowed your look, sweetie," casually Komi declared, "Knew you wouldn't mind." Komi gathered her sleek, leather bag and flung it over her shoulder whilst simultaneously doing a dramatic hair flip.

"Enough with the theatrics, sister," demanded Kori, seizing her sister's wrist to prevent a premature departure. "I need to speak with you about why you are here."

"Ooh, look at the time, dear," cooed Komi in a faux sympathetic voice. "Big Sis has to dash for some lunch plans. Catch you later, Kori-Worry!" Komi twiddled her fingers at Kori and sauntered away from the redhead.

"She knows I've always hated that nickname," muttered Kori under her breath. Mistakenly, Kori watched Komi's complete exit that included a pause at the classroom's door to blow her a kiss, and then Komi proceeding to gush to some person in the hallway who immediately complied to her wishes and carried her bag as she slung her arm around the student.

* * *

Kori's mood further plummeted when she got wind of an emergency cheer meeting during the Golden Hour. Kori sat obediently and quietly in the gym as the other girls gathered onto the bleachers. Kitten stood purposefully next to a sour-faced Karen. Sara Sims meekly situated herself far behind the other ladies.

"Okay, girls," commanded Kitten as soon as their squad coach arrived.

"Ladies," Karen simultaneously corrected and cut off the blonde. "We gathered for a quick meeting for a few accounts. First: homecoming is next week. The pep rally opener is this Friday. Cheer uniforms are to be worn to class that day, along with the following Friday for the actual homecoming football game. Also, full participation in the Spirit Days is expected." Authoritatively, Karen shot the squad a look of seriousness at the statement.

Kori wondered what the "coming of home" all entailed, but knew Karen or Richard would explain later on to her. She rested her chin in her hand and propped the aligning elbow onto her crossed thigh, settling in for a long meeting.

"Moving on!" chimed in Kitten as she literally jutted her hip to knock Karen away. "Beecher here can't captain this team alone, duh, and as you all know, Sims _was_ our co-captain." Kitten's words were venomous, making any rattlesnake jealous for their power for sure. Each cheer squad member was slouching more and more with each poisoned dart from the blonde girl. "However, due to Sims' mysterious absences and dedication to _other_ _activities_," spat Kitten, "she is being fired."

Kori perked up at this announcement. One can be "fired" from the team? Was she, Kori, anywhere near being fired? This slightly frightened her. She so much wanted to belong to this team, this little piece of America and of TA that she has come to know, own, and love.

"Kitten means," interjected Karen desperately to turn the announcement into a more diplomatic presentation, "Sara has had other obligations come up this semester –as we all do," she reminded and brought the team back to humanity. Leave it to Karen Beecher to bring grace back into the picture; Kori smiled at her suitemate's understanding and empathy of sticky situations and how everyone is only human. "So Sara decided that it would be healthier for the cheerleading squad to have a co-captain who could give the team more time."

"Me!" Kitten squealed as she did a cliché cheerleader jump into the air with her lanky arms forming a _vee_. "I, Kitten Destiny Moth, am your new captain!"

_Kitten Destiny Moth… How was that even a name?_ wondered Kori as she rolled her eyes. She could almost guarantee she wasn't alone in that response, and thought she sensed Sara being on the verge of standing and rebelling against the declaration even.

"_Co_-captain," seethed Karen.

Sara shifted back to her hunched position.

"One last piece of news: we have just had a student express interest in the team," Karen's announcement made some of the girls straighten at the prospect of where this information may lead, "and they tried out and have paid the appropriate sporting fees along with late registration."

"Basically what Miss Speaks-a-lot means is," Kitten interrupted, "welcome to the Titans Academy Cheerleading Squad, Komi Anders!"

Kori fell out of her seat.

* * *

"I still got the sonic if you got the boom," suggested Vic. It was Wednesday afternoon, and it has been a crazy day for everybody. Fresh off Fall Break, the slump hasn't been quite kicked yet, but thankfully it was sixth period. Just one more full class period, and then Wednesday was over for the Titans Academy students.

The reason for this dodge ball rematch was Kori making an innocent observation on how Rachel never had to "dodge the ball" during the game a couple weeks back. That prompted the coach to backtrack, and lo and behold, Rachel never _did_ get out during that game two weeks ago. They ended the match when Sid Block got both Vic and Richard out of the game.

Rachel outwardly groaned at being the reason for this silly rematch, but she was internally glad it provided Vic and Richard a reconciling for the entire gym class to observe –partly so peers would quit pestering her about the Grayson-Stone Civil War. She was so over the dramas of high school, and it was just barely halfway through the first semester. She heaved a sigh and promptly sat crisscross on the gym floor in silent protest.

Flawlessly, Richard and Vic assumed their positions and performed their infamous sonic boom dodge ball move, getting out both Sid Block and Johnny Rancid.

"Boo-yah," Vic chanted as he observed the two enemies sulk away.

"Victorious!" shouted Kori joyfully with a fist pump, happy to have her friends in the same room as her without her sister hovering nearby. "We are the winners." Her statement rang true as both Sid and Johnny were the only remaining members of the opposing team.

"Good show, dudes," encouraged Gar as he jogged over to his pals, ecstatic to have his roommate back in TA. "Made a fortune off the tickets I sold," he jested with a wink.

Richard good-humoredly shoved the shorter lad and remarked, "Couldn't have done it without Stone here." He clasped Vic's shoulder to demonstrate the comradely.

"It's a team effort for sure," Vic replied. "Thanks, man." He softly jabbed Richard's shoulder in a playful punch and then fist bumped Gar who insisted on explosion noises after the contact.

Vic was receiving clap backs and "good to see you"s for the remainder of the gym class period. As the lingering minutes before the bell's dismissal for the class to end wound down, he glanced around and noticed he hadn't seen Grant all day when he felt he was being watched. Coyly, he checked around himself and realized that Sara Sims was across the gym, but regardless, was staring at him. Vic was over her; he knew that, but he felt a sort of responsibility towards the cheerleader for causing the rumored staleness in her and Atlas's relationship. The bell rang before he could lock eyes with Sara, and then Atlas swooped in and tucked her under her arm like a rag doll; together they exited the gym. However, not before Atlas could shoot a withering look directly at Victor Stone. The guy truly did not know how to let things go, concluded Vic.

Turning around, Vic made a beeline for Karen to ask her about English class that they had next, when Mal Duncan slipped beside her, and asked if she minded he walked her to her class before he had to go to history. Pretending someone had called out to him, Vic jerked back and scraped his thumbnail over his mouth to hide his change of plans –and if he was being honest, his disappointment as well. Yep, he was back at TA all right.

"Hellooooo, Vic, have you heard anything I just said?" Gar asked, waving his hands frantically in front of his roommate's face.

Vic caught the hands and tossed them as he replied, "What?"

"My idea about homecoming," explained Gar as they continued leaving class. "We all go as a group. Well, 'cause Richard has to take someone, but doesn't want to. Kori's first American dance shouldn't be with some lame guy. And it'd stop you from mooning over Karen."

"I don't moon," with narrowed eyes, Vic stated. "I thought you'd want a specific date, man."

"Ah, nah, she-she would never go out with me."

"Why not? My roomie has some perks," joked Vic as he pretended to punch Gar's shoulder.

"Oh, yeah? Tell _her_ that," offhandedly, commented Gar.

"No, man, don't tell her, show her," Vic commanded. "If you want her to see you as the man you are, you gotta _do_ it, not hope she notices. Who is this chick anyway?"

"Hi, guys, what's up?" interrupted Kole Crystals. Vic could have sworn he heard Gar gulp nervously. "Was your Ninja show marathon successful, Gar?"

"Yep," he jerked his head. Then, at a spurt of courage he blurted, at the same time she had turned and commented to Vic.

"Kole, will you go to homecoming with me?"

"It's good to have you back at TA, Vic."

Vic stared at Gar. Kole kept glancing between the two to confirm what she heard. Gar kept his gaze at the ground to hide his inflamed cheeks.

"What?" she finally asked.

"Like totally as friends, dudette," Gar added quickly.

"Oh, Gar," cooed Kole with a sigh. "I-I'm flattered, but I'm going with Clay Gnark," she explained slowly and somewhat sadly.

"Aw, yeah, I get it," he waved off, face back to gazing at the ground. "He needs you."

"I'm not going with Clay because I _have_ to, because I don't," she explained firmly, but with gentleness. "I'm going with Clay because he's one of my best friends. You're one, too, Gar. You're such a good guy and would make a great friend-date for sure," encouraged Kole with an optimistic smile, unaware of the damage she impacted with her word choice.

"Totally, yeah, friend-date for sure," he hastily mumbled with a numb nod.

"If you consider going in a group, Kole," jumped in Vic, desperate to save his drowning pal, "Hit us up, little lady."

"Sure thing, guys," she quietly responded. "Gar, thank you for the offer."

Gar lifted his arm in a good-bye gesture and limply turned to scamper down the hall to escape.

Gar sensed rather than saw that Vic jogged to keep up with him. "Yo, Gar-Man," he called. Vic reached for Gar's shoulder, but he wrested away from the touch. "Gar!" demanded Vic again as he seized the arm of his roommate to prevent a retreat.

"What?!"

"That sucks, man."

Gar kicked the ground as he shuffled his Chuck Taylor's. "Yeah," he finally muttered. "Yeah, it does."

"I can cover for ya in last period if you need me to," offered Vic. "I know Kole is in that class with you, man."

"Nah," scoffed Gar, "it's cool, dude. I'm the Gar Man, nothing can keep me down," he joked as he flexed his muscles half-heartedly.

"Dang right," Vic agreed as he and Gar once more fist-bumped –sound effects included. Although Titans Academy wasn't perfect –residents included- it sure was good to be back in Vic's perspective.

* * *

Once again, a class Richard had with Kori, last period English, he was preoccupied texting. However, this time, it was not with another potentially date. Roy had shot him a message earlier about how it was great to be with another guy who got the socialite life when the gaggle of them ventured to the pier yesterday.

Agreeing, Richard replied back so, to which Roy texted that since they both need to be doing some media coverage, why not tackle it together? Roy then brought up the first day of school convo they had with Trenten Brooks about sponsorships for his swim meets.

Titans Academy had a swim team, which Trenten was the obvious captain of, but he additionally swam competitively through individual events and not with the school. It's pricey to compete, though. Roy suggested they attend Trenten's upcoming swim meet this Friday for both public coverage of the two heartthrobs and to support their pal.

This made Richard grin; he didn't mind doing appearances for the media now that he had a bargain with Bruce, and making the show with a friend to help a friend was even better.

Immediately, Roy began a group chat that included both he and Richard and the addition of Trenten with the proposition. Richard swore he could have heard a victory shout seconds after he saw that the chlorine lover read the message. Richard could only continue to smile and scheme with possible crazy signs and t-shirts he and Roy could create for the meet later on in the week.

Silently, Kori observed the text message exchange with interest –and a twinge of sadness. Thanks to her excellent eyesight, and the fact that her seat is right next to Richard, she read the trio of boys' plans. She was happy that Richard and Roy wanted to support their friend, Trenten, in his swimming.

However, Kori felt a snippet of sadness steal the joy from her witnessing Richard evolving his socialite image of him and the Bruce Wayne Empire to good of others… because he promised her he was going to be there for her.

It happened after the cheer meeting during the lunch break, when she arrived at art class, ready to lose herself to the canvas and art assignment. Richard arrived, sharing some story about his lunch with some celebrity he just dined with to Roy, Wally, and her. Kitten looked like she was ready to puke, but she stood and marched over to Kori as soon as Sifu Brushogun gave permission for the students to meander the classroom once he explained the task for the day.

"Listen here, sunshine," snapped Kitten, slamming her hand onto the table between Kori and Richard at their art table. "Karen and Coach knew I had this class with you, so they asked me to deliver some news to you since you bailed out of the cheer meeting so fast, they couldn't talk to you." She rolled her eyes as if Kori's behavior was pathetic.

"Yes?" Kori asked, she hoped her confusion was not evident to Kitten.

"Karen wants… _you_ to do your series of flips and handsprings during the routine for the pep assembly Friday."

"Really?" joy running through Kori's veins at the opportunity.

"Yeah, whatever," brushed off Kitten. "Obviously, the routine needed a spotlight, and because I'm just so generous, I decided it should be your flips."

"You mean Karen booted your idea of you bursting out of a cake?" jested Wally, eavesdropping onto the conversation.

"Whatever," she shoved Wally's head out of their space as he chuckled. "Coach thinks that I'm not a 'team player', whatever that means," continued Kitten as she shifted her gaze to something more worthy than Kori's smile. She settled on studying her manicured nails.

"So for you to keep your position as the co-captain, they made you share the solo spot in the routine with me?" Kori questioned, piecing together both the spoken and unspoken meanings in the words Kitten was spinning.

"Not 'share', Tangerine, sheesh," grumbled Kitten. "To have completely." Kitten looked physically pained to deliver this.

"Oh!" Exclaimed Kori.

"Yeah, don't be a bragger, Anders," Kitten snapped. "And it's just for Friday since our routine isn't completely done, yet. I _doubt_ your solo flip time will stay for the actual performance of the routine during the homecoming game _next_ Friday."

"I am the most grateful for any opportunity to assist," replied Kori, humbly with a small blush at the attention of her nearby classmates shooting out congratulations at the honor.

"Ugh, I'm gonna be sick," spat Kitten as she stood and strutted back to her seat and grumpily flopped into her chair.

"Hey, Kor, that's great," encouraged Richard when Kitten left their table.

"Thank you," she dipped her head as she quietly accepted his congratulations. "Would, would, Richard, would…" She paused and studied her hands resting in her lap as she twiddled her fingers nervously.

"What's up, Kor?" he asked, seeing her revolt to her shy self that he has rarely seen since their first day at TA with her. "What's going on?"

"Friend Richard," she began again after huffing a breath, "would you come to the rally of pep assembling to watch the leading of cheer performance?"

He didn't know this, but this was the first time Kori has ever had to truly ask something from another person. Normally she made requests and they were granted, but this was a request she didn't know the answer to.

"Kori," Richard replied in a quiet, almost sad tone, "you don't have to ask, silly. Of course I'll be there. Front and center."

Kori burst into a full on grin then, and she silently continued her art assignment. For the next few minutes in art with Richard's reply running through her head and the trust of her flips from the captain and coach resting in her heart, Kori forgot about her sister existing on the same premises of Titans Academy, let alone the same cheerleading squad.

He promised her he was going to be there for her.

And he promised Trenten and Roy he was going to be there for them.

On the same day. Same time.

It wasn't a big deal, though, she reassured herself after the memory from earlier in the day played out in her mind; not noticing her note taking in English class had stopped. She shook herself out of the stupor and forced her hand to continue covering the paper with words spewed from the instructor.

It _wasn't_ a big deal. Honest.

* * *

For Trenten Brooks, time could not go by any slower. He was watching the second hand trudge dutifully, but painfully slow, around the analog declaration at the front of his animal science classroom. Trenten didn't notice the stolen glances Kole made to Gar in sympathy. The little guy looked fine, but she couldn't help but feel like she dampened his spirits. When the bell finally sang out freedom for the Titans Academy clan, Trenten raced out of the room and crashed into Richard Grayson and Roy Harper: his sponsors!

"Guys!" he spewed joyously. "Are you serious?"

_Serious about what?_ Pondered Gar as he passed by the trio. He stopped his walk back to his dorm; he needed to double-check geometry homework with Richard anyway. For some reason, he didn't remember much about today's lecture other than the beautiful Komi conquering the roster and their hearts.

"Heck yeah, brother," responded Roy with a grin.

"We're happy to help," Richard agreed.

"I can't believe that I have sponsors," flabbergasted Trenten, hands to his temples in disbelief to act as further proof. "I, Trenten Brooks, have sponsors for my competitive swim meets!"

Roy and Richard laughed at their friend's excitement.

"Slow down, water boy," Roy chuffed. "We're simply paying for your transportation, fees, and food."

"And showing up, conveniently in your colors and with your name on our wardrobe," added Richard with a smile.

"You guys have no idea what that means to a struggling athlete, though," went on Trenten in complete awe. "You both are seriously the best. The. Best."

"We're not going to argue," shrugged Roy with a laugh as Trenten grabbed him in a headlock.

"For this to work, though, it's going to take all of us committing," stated Richard, reigning in the excitement for business as per usual. "Roy and my name's can't be shamed with crummy swimming on your end, Chlorine."

"Not a problem," promised the swimmer. "It's crazy how much having someone believe in you makes you want to work ten times harder."

"Yeah, poetic," pushed aside Roy with a small smile. "But what's going to make this work is more than a one time deal."

"And maybe a really big competition to cap the season or something," continued Richard with a nod. "Know of anything that would really seal the deal and get all of us some positive press?"

Trenten's smile grew to encompass his entire tan face into a rival for a beaming lighthouse. "I know just the competition. Kole has been pushing me to enter, but it's pricey and lengthy."

Gar –who was still eavesdropping but unnoticed- felt his stomach sink as he realized where this conversation was going.

"Shoot," Richard, not fazed by the money aspect, prompted with a curt nod.

"The Triton Competition," answered Trenten. "It's not until January, but the sign ups are due pretty soon. Spots are limited."

"Let's do it," Roy encouraged.

Trenten then apologized for having to so soon ditch them, but his after-school practice was pressing, thus Roy and Richard released their athlete.

Having heard enough, Gar blew off asking Richard about math and stormed away; bumping into Kole and not taking notice, his anger consumed his vision so.

Richard, after Roy left soon after Trenten, noticed how Kole seemed off kilter and asked her what was the matter.

"Gar," she answered with a frown. "He seemed really mad just now and was really aloof in last period."

"Weird," commentated Roy about their usual peppy friend's odd behavior.

"Probably just having a bad first day back from break," excused Richard.

"I don't know," she whispered, peering off in the direction Gar had exited moments ago. She couldn't help but feel responsible for his mood. Swiping away the guilt, she pasted on a smile as she swept by the geometry classroom and walked away with Clay Gnark in tow.

* * *

"Sister? Sister, I seek your… companionship," called Kori as she roamed the TA dorm halls. The Friday pep rally was hours ago, and the magnanimous TA enrollment enchantment by Komi Anders was days ago. It was also the last time Kori spied her sister. No one had heard or seen the girl since –and it seemed every student and faculty member missed her. Kori had to physically stop herself from rolling her eyes or sighing every time she was questioned about her sister and the whereabouts of the enamoring Komi.

Kori waltzed into the living space of the dorms and found Vic and Gar duking it out on the _GameStation_ on a racing game.

"You're not gonna pass me, little man," taunted Vic as he gripped the game controller. Kori focused on the screen and noticed a green and purple car pass the white and blue one. "Ya passed me?!"

"Ha," scoffed Gar as he hopped on the couch's back and leaned forward with a death grip on his controller. "Nitro! First place, baby!"

"How fun," mused Kori as she approached the duo. "Mind if I join?"

"Sorry, Kor," Vic replied as slammed his joystick forward.

"Komi is playing winner," happily Gar crooned, "she's a boss at this game."

"Oh-h-h…?" dragged out Kori in confusion. Not only did she question her sister's whereabouts, but now Komi's knowhow on American video games? She meandered back to her dorm to further ponder her mysterious relation.

"Oh, good afternoon, Rachel." She chimed when she saw her roommate lounging on her respective bed.

Rachel pulled out an ear bud and shot up an eyebrow to ask what Kori needed.

"Um, would you want to do the hanging out or girl talk, I have some questions, and I just…" she could see Rachel already turning and beginning to plug back in her ear bud. "We could visit your favorite depressing café?" desperately, Kori offered.

"Already been," curtly, Rachel answered as she finished returning the music to her ear. "Komi and I went there instead of the pep rally. It was open mic and your sister's poetry is surprisingly dark."

"How great."

Rachel was already lost with eyes closed and feet gently tapping to the beat of music.

"Hey, Kori," greeted Karen as Kori exited her room into the foyer and Karen exited the hallway into the dorm.

"Friend Karen," Kori began, "do you have a moment?"

"Sorry, girl," answered Karen as she was hastily buzzing around her room, gathering random gym items. "I have a cheer captain meeting in three minutes and have _got_ to find my gym shorts."

"You need gym shorts for a meeting?"

"Well, the meeting is Coach, Kitten, and I working on Komi's flips," explained Karen as she snagged her shorts from under her desk.

"Of course it is," bitterly, Kori murmured only loud enough for herself to barely hear.

"Did you know that Komi is able to do the flip routine we've been practicing with you?" offered Karen as she scrambled through her chaotic room to the exit once more.

"Um, I suppose."

"But, like ten times better," chimed in a new voice: Kitten. She leaned against the hallway's doorframe.

"Ignore her, girl," encouraged Karen as she glided past Kori. "You did phenom today, by the way!" The suitemate quickly zipped out into the hallway only to return in a split second. "Oh, Kori! I forgot. Your water bottle is in the gym. I didn't know if you meant to leave it there or not, so I didn't grab it."

"That is alright," hollowly, Kori replied, slumping against the wall. "I shall retrieve it so you do not have to worry about it."

"Aite, thanks, girl! See you on the cheer bus at 5:30 sharp!" Karen called, already down the hallway and flying down the stairs.

Not wanting to forget it before having to board the bus in a few hours, Kori decided she might as well go now. She tried her best to put on a mask through the halls and down the stairs. When she arrived outside the gym doors, she noted the cheer coach and the two co-captains intently discussing something. Karen was not in her gym shorts yet, so Kori decided that the gym would be free for a few more moments since the special Komi meeting hasn't started yet.

Thinking she was Komi-free, Kori closed her proximity to the propped open gym doors. As she neared the gym, she overheard a conversation on the other side.

"That's perfect, Richard," crooned the voice.

_No_.

Kori peered around the door. Richard had his arms and hands entangled with her sister.

_What a cozy picture they made, _judged Kori.

"Hi-ya!" shouted Komi suddenly. She practically chucked Richard Grayson a handful of yards. His athleticism was the only thing preventing the landing to be an ambulance call. "Learned that from a Krav Maga master in the Tirus Three Desert," confidently, Komi explained as she waltzed over a gasping Richard who needed a recovery moment.

"Hello, Richard and my sister," burst in Kori, unable to hold back her fury and curiosity. She slapped on a smile and an innocent inquiry voice, "Am I interrupting?"

"Not at all," easily, Richard said with a smile. "Komi was just showing me some of the Krav Maga moves. How come you never taught me these cool moves?"

"Probably because she doesn't know them," input Komi before Kori had a second to defend herself. "I always _was_ the better fighter."

"Better runner, that is for sure," accused Kori with narrowing, green eyes. Briefly, Kori spotted surprise in her sister's eyes at her spirited accusation.

"C'mon, Richard, I want to show you the technique I once used to stop a raging vortek." Komi had seized Richard's wrist and was almost out of the gym before in entered the observing cheerleaders. "Another time," she charmed to the Boy Wonder, and then began her amazing spitfire of turns and flips.

"Wow, she is something, isn't she?" Kori didn't realize Richard slipped beside her.

"She is my sister," lamely put Kori. "It is like I am almost used to her… amazingness."

"Brooks did great in his swim meet today, by the way," piped up Richard after a few moments of the pair absorbed in observing Komi's impressive gymnastics for the cheer coach and two co-captains.

"Hmm?" Kori shook herself out of her stupor. Komi's obnoxious and larger-than-life conversations were dominating her mind for the past few minutes; thus for the first time since the pep rally, Kori's mind was off of the missing attender.

"Trenten Brooks competed today in swimming, Roy and I are his 'sponsors', don't you remember me telling you about this a few days ago?" Richard peered at Kori peculiarly; she was good about recalling information important to her friends.

Kori wished to reply, "Don't you remember me telling you about my pep rally solo spot that was this afternoon?" but held her tongue. Snapping at one of her few close American friends was not going to solve this issue.

"I am glad he did well," she finally replied in an octave a minute higher than monotone. "Trenten is a good swimmer and deserves the notice you and friend Roy have brought to him." Kori did not fully understand sarcasm, but she applied it in the latter sentence; yet the American accomplishment was lost on the awestruck Wonder Boy.

Richard smirked at her praise about his and Roy's move on sponsoring their pal. Honestly, it wasn't bad: going to the swim meet. Trenten had to go up early and took a city bus to get to the next town over where it was held, and Roy and Richard left after six period and met up with him. They sported Trenten's colors: royal blue, black, and white. Wally came as soon as school ended and wore the same colors and also brought along a big poster with the bold-printed words: "Trenten's Tribe". They all liked the nickname for their groupie and decided to keep it for whenever they'd make t-shirts later. Roy and Richard made a big point to high-five Trenten throughout the meet and to conference with him afterwards, too. The press took notice. All the way home, Trenten's eyes would light up as his name would be printed in the headlines and news articles for different high school sport spots.

Bruce Wayne and Oliver Queen too took notice of the specified appearance. Bruce phoned Richard who informed him of the plan about sponsoring. It had Bruce's approval as long as they kept the Wayne name out of it; can't mix business with high school sports and the whole fiasco of what that kind of influence could do to either party. Richard agreed wholeheartedly and was quietly proud of himself for making a move that held Bruce Wayne's non-disproval.

"Hey, what is a vortek anyway?" Richard's question disturbed the silence between he and Kori; it also was a change of flow from her usually inquiring to him about different terms and customs.

"Tameranean wild pig. Like a warthog, but bigger and with a two more tusks," explained Kori.

"Sounds brave to take one down," he commented, eyes focused on the wondrous girl, Komi, before them.

"Quite foolish," interjected Kori. "Vorteks are dangerous creatures. The more humans try to fight them, the more challenged they feel, so they try to invade. Whole villages have been deserted because of the vorteks' wrath and fierce nature," she illuminated with furrowed brows.

"Whoa, Kori, calm down. I was just trying to compliment your family."

"If it concerns my sister, please pay the respects of your precious praise to her directly," declared Kori. "I am _no_ delivery girl."

Before Richard could respond, she stated that she had seen enough and pivoted on her heel. She was back in her room, glad that Rachel's work shift was current so the room was empty to enter into, when she vaguely recalled that she forgot her water bottle. Oh well, she mused. She would not die if it were lost; Karen always had extras in the cooler for the cheerleaders. Just so, at the moment, Kori decided she would prefer dehydration over facing Komi's smug persona in retrieval of the water bottle from the very gym possessing the cheer routine practice for the _wondrous_ Komi Anders. Yes, desiccation was looking like a viable option to plain, old, normal Kori-Worry Anders.

* * *

"Hey, Gar!"

Gar turned as he heard his name shouted from across the lot. He was just about the enter the Spirit Bus for the football game. Then, he saw the person owning the shout.

"Hey, man," continued Trenten Brooks.

"Hi."

"Kole can't go to the game after all," he explained. "Clay doesn't always do well in new environments and the Jump City Prep's stadium isn't familiar, so she's keeping him company here at school."

"Oh," deflated, replied Gar. "Thanks for telling me."

"She already bought a ticket, though, and I haven't been to a game in forever so she gave it to me. Mind if I sit with you on the bus?"

Gar wanted to abandon all plans of attending the game now.

"Uh, no, well, I mean," he sputtered, attempting desperately to hold on to his happy-go-lucky attitude despite the plague of Trenten Brooks interfering. "If the seat is open."

Trenten nodded and Gar prayed that only single seats would be available left on the bus. Unfortunately, since the game was in Jump City, many students drove there on their own and opted not to ride the bus. There were half a dozen options for the two to perch in.

"Looks like it," commented Trenten as he clamored up the bus steps behind Gar. "Here good?"

Mutely and dumbly, Gar nodded and robotically sat in the bench seat, attempting to position himself as far as possible from the swim team captain. Blessedly, the Spirit Bus was an older bus and moaned and groaned and rumbled like a tornado, so chitchat was paused between the two. The hustle and bustle of parking and entering the stadium and finding the student section for their respective team also eliminated small talk. But they were a half hour early and nothing else could delay them speaking to each other. Currently, Gar was regretting not having a steady job for a few dollars to go waste on the concession stand as an excuse to be anywhere but next to Trenten Brooks.

"Haven't seen you on the swim team lately," Trenten commented, attempting to act nonchalant about the awkwardness oozing from him and Gar.

"I haven't been to swim practice in over a year," quipped Gar. "Way to notice, Brooks."

"You're missed, on the team."

"Doubt it. They have you."

"I'm not the only swimmer on the roster, Gar," declared Trenten.

"The only one who medaled," Gar muttered.

"Not that I recall," quietly, Trenten said. "You, Gar, earned quite a few medals when you competed. Especially in junior high."

"Let's not talk about junior high," snapped Gar. He eyed his ex-teammate out of the corner of his eye and sighed. Being harsh was not like him and it was exhausting. But even just being near Trenten was bringing up a past that Gar did not want to go an counseling session at a football game. In attempt for lighter conversation for everyone's sakes, Gar continued with a joking tone, "Or about anything before puberty, amirite?"

Trenten caught wind of the subtle jest and offered a smile in understanding. "I'm pretty sure you were the tallest in our Guppies Swim Group."

"I'm pretty sure I haven't grown since Guppies," joked Gar. "I'm going to go talk to Kori before the game starts," he paused and went out on a limb as he offered, "Do you want to join?"

"I was going to hit the concession stand, actually," Trenten remarked, standing to his full, fit 6'2" frame. "Need anything?"

Gar shook his head and waited for the long and lean swimmer to exit the stands before standing up to his average 5'7" stature. He meandered down the bleachers and slyly leapt the fence. He nodded at Karen and Sara in the process of gaining ground to reach the tall redhead.

"Wassup, Kor?"

"Have you ever been in competition with someone, but only you are aware of it?" she burst.

"You have no idea," Gar answered, shoving his hands into his pockets and took a deep breath. "It's exhausting."

"Yes," she mused. "Quite so."

* * *

"Heated conversation," offered a sudden voice to Trenten's left. He jerked at the burst and paused his journey to the concession stand.

"Grant," beamed Trenten after he studied the intruder, "Long time, no see, friend."

"Regretful," answered Grant, hands deep in his jacket pockets. "Mind if I join your trek?"

"That's fine," Trenten replied and continued his pace.

"So, that talk you were having with Gar," began again Grant slowly, "seemed kind of intense."

"Yeah," shrugged off the swimmer, uncomfortable sharing the details.

"Did I hear something about medaling in Guppies or junior high or something?"

"Dude, why are you so curious?" interrupted Trenten suspiciously.

"I was a Tadpole," Grant replied in answer with a shrug and innocent smile, "Just curious if we ever competed or swam at the same place."

Trenten's shoulders dropped their tension and his jack slacked at the newest piece of information; he smiled and the duo began to swap swim stories for the remainder of the concession stand journey.

* * *

Rachel was laughing as she bounded out the Tea's Tome with Malchior swinging her off the arm.

"Another shift in the books," she claimed through chortle bursts.

"Another paragraph in _your_ book," he stated, reflecting on their work for the writing competition. "You've really come a long way in just a week, Chellie."

"I couldn't have done any of it without you, Malchior," she reassured him. They paused their walk under a streetlight. Here she could admire how the yellowy light bathed his pale blond hair in golden tones. His glacial blue eyes zeroed in on her.

Self-conscious under his gaze, she began their trek again. Peacefully, they journeyed further down the sidewalk, fading in and out of streetlight highlights that would illuminate her flushed cheeks, his pondering expression, and their fingers flirting the decreasing distance between the walking pair.

Suddenly, he broke the silence and firmly snatched the fingers he has been dancing around for the last two blocks. "I cherish these hands of yours."

"What do you mean?" she asked, scrunching her nose but holding a smile still for him.

"Because of what they do for me," he answered matter-of-factly, "Belong to the most amazingly, dark girl who is willing to hold my grubby hands in public." Rachel laughed at his explanation and playfully swatted away his grip at the said declaration.

"You're something else, Malchior." She didn't realize it, but they paused once more under a streetlight and once more he haunted her hands.

"And you're mine, Chellie," he answered, dipping in for a kiss.

Not wanting him to gain affection quite so easily, Rachel, laughing, ducked away from him, causing their linked forms to spin at the jerky movement. Slowly their twirls turned into a topsy-turvy waltz, which was actually quite perfect for such a peculiar, dark duo. Before she knew it, her head was resting upon his chest; his heartbeat the music to their swaying.

"Dance with me," he rumbled, disrupting the tune.

"We are."

"At homecoming."

Rachel peeled back and peered at Malchior, absorbing his declaration.

"Are you asking me to homecoming, Malchior?"

"Would you accept me if I did?" he charmed in response.

"I'd say your chances are pretty good."

_What a flirt I've become,_ inwardly mused Rachel as she replied and coyly smiled at the man before her.

"Spectacular!" He cheered and dropped to his knee in jest. "Chellie, homecoming. Shall we?"

Despite the inquiry being for a high school dance event and not a larger commitment, the action and question still made her heart flutter and hands slightly tremble in his grip.

"We shall," she dared answer. He slyly grinned and scooped her in a spinning hug as he shot to his feet once more. Their laughter echoed down the Hob's roads and in her heart. They left the lamplight's beams and strolled back to the Tower, hand-in-hand, silent but content.

* * *

Vic was in the awkward not really awake, but not really asleep stage as his head kept jerking with the bus. Titans Academy just finished another win on the gridiron against Jump City Prep. The rivalry between the two private academic institutions was not as strong as TA verses H.I.V.E; however, a win was always welcomed. The drive wasn't too long, so it surprised Vic how quickly he dozed off on the voyage back.

"Hey, Stone," whisper-greeted Vic as he tried to shrug off the dreams and to respond to the person in his ear.

"Yeah?" groggily, he replied. After the past few weeks infiltrating the H.I.V.E. and catching up with everyone at TA and going through grueling practices -despite the coaches threats that since he walked out for a "homebound study fortnight" he couldn't play tonight- Vic was exhausted.

"Ya did good out there tonight," the whisper continued. A girl's voice, Vic could detect, but his senses were too fatigued to decipher whom.

"All I did was fill water bottles," he answered, rubbing his fingers in his eyes.

"I know, you still did good helping your team even if you didn't play."

"As long as the team wins, why does it matter who's on the field?" he asked, almost snapping the answer through his exhaustion. Most likely, the great Victor Stone in his full reign of senses would never admit to that, but in his dilapidated energy state, it's what spewed out of his unfiltered mouth.

"Have a date to the dance?"

"Huh? Why, you askin' me?" Vic was so tired and so confused by this sudden shift in conversation.

"No, I already have a date," the person answered –almost regretfully with their quieter and slower response.

"Oh," he nodded, eyes closed still. "You don't seem excited 'bout that."

"Having _a_ date and having the _right_ date are two totally completely different things."

"Then why go if he's not right?"

"Do you have a date?"

"I know I have to save a dance for Jin Hex," thought Vic, wishing this conversation over so he could rest. "So I guess she's my date."

"Now you don't seem excited 'bout that," she rebottled when she noted his tone.

"Jin's not my _right_ date, she's just my friend date."

The stranger fell silent, and Vic drifted closer and closer to sleep as the bus rocked him slowly out of consciousness.

"Who's the right date, then?" Quietly, she voice asked. Vic barely registered the question.

"I have a thing for bumblebees," he slurred as he slumped into oblivion and sleep claimed him.

* * *

Grant felt ill. Bodily, possibly, but primarily heart-wise. His employer wanted him back in the TA scene to continue gathering data, but with each passing moment spent in the company of the Titans, he felt a sense of belonging. His conversation with Trenten Brooks for one example, or his late night hallway chat with Richard Grayson being another. Just tonight, Gar noticed him stalking off to his dorm and invited him to eat popcorn with a few other friends. Victor Stone was unconscious with exhaustion on the couch, but other than that, all the members he was suppose to be taking notes on were alert and on the couch beside him. His master was thrilled with the connections.

"Apprentice, talk with the alien girl," the employer commanded over Grant's earpiece.

"Kori, uh, how are you?" lamely, he inquired, unsure of what his master was seeking.

"I am... better, thank you," she answered honestly and tiredly; it had been a long Friday.

"Something not making it great?"

"Oh, not really," she answered with a distant smile. "I miss my home, but I am grateful for America and its people. For me, being offered a chance at having so many friends is a... a once in a lifetime experience. So I am trying to do the best with what little time I have with them."

Like a sincere Miss United States beauty pageant answer, Grant was moved to near tears and instantly had a thick cotton spot in his throat prohibiting a reply other than a nod to Kori. Oh, how she pegged him unintentionally! Grant mused. He has been employed for so long and with such demanding hours and a demanding master, friends were few and far between. Actually, they were nonexistent, now that Grant reflected on his teen years. And here these Titans were, stupidly offering friendship, laughs, and some couch space to him, meek little Grant, on this chilly Friday night after a football win.

"Apprentice, sit back down," was the calm direction from the overseeing master into the earpiece.

Yet Grant did not falter. The emotion in his throat and mind moved to discomfort as he realized he didn't belong here. He didn't deserve these guys. And they didn't deserve the information he possessed to be leaked to his master.

"Remain in position, apprentice," again rang an order.

Desperate for air, Grant quickly exited the room. Sweating and blind with his new mission, he wasn't paying attention to where he was going -or to whom he was bursting into.

"Watch where you're going, nerd, ugh!" the girl he accidentally slammed into exclaimed.

"Are you friends with anyone in there?" Grant burst.

"Apprentice, what are you doing?" rising in volume, the employer demanded.

"Ew, no," she replied.

"Not one? Not even wanting to befriend just one in there?"

"Well..."

_"Apprentice!"_

For the first time in his life, Grant ignored the dictation and instead insisted to the girl, "Then take this and rid of it. I can't hang on to it any longer." Grant was hyperventilating now and the girl was eyeing him warily.

_"APPRENTICE!"_

"Please, just burn it!" And he ran, chucking the ear piece down the hall blindly as he escaped both the Tower and his master.

Confused, the girl examined the peculiar thing the sweaty boy handed her. It was a manilla folder with a few school documents enclosed, but what caught her attention the most was how the pages were obviously torn in two, and then taped back together again.

"Hm," she muttered to herself. "What kind of motivation do I have here?" Coyly laughed Kitten as she read the documents stating Vic's departure and reentry to Titans Academy. The cherry on top was the principal's signature and voided stamp.

* * *

**Author's Note:** Greetings, reader, once more! Thank you for reading this update! It was kind of a filler chapter, but necessary for later chaps and I didn't want to throw too many curveballs in this chap anyway. :) Jeepers, I didn't realize that this has been my first update in SIX MONTHS. So sorry about that. Please drop a review if you have time -they really, really do encourage/advise me on where to go with this story (I do know, but I love input for details!). Have a grand day and God bless, friend. :)

Noticeable quotes/scenes from:

Teen Titans, episode _Sisters_ and _Divide and Conquer. _


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